Kidnapped
by Yannami
Summary: DCMK. "I want Kaitou Kid delivered to me in a week – dead or alive, it doesn't matter" Ran and Aoko always did look alike, and it never really mattered before. But now, it's going to cause some trouble – for both Conan and the Kid. Real, deep trouble.
1. Ransom

Ransom

_Kaito's at it again, _Aoko thought, _poofing up colors and things that shouldn't even be in a normal seventeen year-old's pocket. _However, for just that moment, she allowed a smile to grace upon her lips, because now Kaito wasn't using his magic tricks to play a nasty prank on her. Right now, he was standing on two socked feet on her living room couch – a makeshift stage – so that he could present her weary father with a magic show.

Truth be told, she was the one who requested Kaito to show him a few tricks on his spare time just to lift Nakamori's mood a bit. Kid has been irritatingly active lately, pulling heists week after week, giving her father little time for rest and his only daughter.

However, to her surprise, it was Kaito who decided to make it big. It was him who asked – or rather _begged_ – Nakamori to hold his small little performance in their house on a weekend so Aoko could be there. So Ako could _be _there with her _dad. _So she could see him loosen up and smile.

"BWAHAHAHAHA!" Nakamori suddenly hollered, snapping Aoko out of her daze. It was then that she noticed an annoyingly familiar flash of white. Kaito was dressed up as Kid. And he had a pie slapped into his face, along with a very flustered expression. Even though Aoko thought that it wasn't really the thief humiliating himself before her, it was still extremely close to the real thing; that in itself was very amusing – watching the collected international thief act like the jokester Kaito is. She felt her own stomach churn as a soft chuckle left her lips.

"Bakaito," she giggled, watching in amusement as Inspector Nakamori doubled over in the midst of the continuous bursts of mirth. Kaito grinned proudly to himself before lifting Kid's top hat, which revealed an oversized chicken resting atop his head.

"Oh my, no wonder my head's been heavy," he spoke, adding just the right amount of Kid's cockiness into his tone.

Aoko's giggles escalated into wild maniacal laughter. "Kid's head is always heavy because it's always filled with arrogance," Nakamori deemed in a wobbly voice, although the bright glimmer in his eyes didn't go over the young magician's head. Smiling, Kaito straightened up and presented his final trick – bathing 'Kid' in pink powder.

"Bravo!" Aoko yelled as Kaito removed his top hat and bowed to his two audiences. Beside her, Nakamori was clapping, hooting every once in awhile.

"You should teach me your tricks, Kaito-kun," Nakamori grinned, patting the young magician at the back once he had shrugged off the pink-dyed costume. "It could be the key to finally capturing Kid!"

Kaito's lips, in response, twitched uncomfortably. "Haha," he chuckled. "You think so?"

Aoko felt a smirk spread across her face. Kaito always has been a big fan of the thief – something that she could never understand.

"Of course! After all, the—" Nakamori was cut off by a sudden jolt in his pocket. With his face suddenly taking a more serious air, he glanced at his phone's caller ID. "I need to take this," he said before disappearing into the hallway.

When he was gone, Aoko sighed and collapsed into the cushion. "Must be work again. Dad has it hard. Kid's heists are beginning to grow violent nowadays. There are snipers there, Kaito. Snipers! And…my _dad_ is in there." Her lips twisted grimly as her eyes suddenly grew distant. "Kid's got it easy. He doesn't need to worry about the injured civilians."

Kaito freezes over, but Aoko is too busy staring at her feet to notice. Then, "Maa, Aoko. Don't worry about your dad. He'll be fine!"

She shook her head, fumbling anxiously with the hem of her shirt. "He's not invincible."

"But twenty years of chasing after the world's greatest thief should've given him all the agility that he needs to stay out of trouble." He stares into Aoko's eyes, suddenly very serious. "Listen, if you keep worrying like that, you'll end up sweating out the nutrients that are supposed to go to your chest."

There was a pause, and Kaito braced himself for the mop, for the comeback, for the punches or all of them combined. Instead, he was greeted by an eye roll and a soft, bated "thank you."

He raised his brows. "Aoko, you're thanking me for—"

"Not for that, idiot!" She sat back and turned away. "I'm thanking you for the magic show, and for making me find time with my dad. You're actually nice if you're not being an irritating prankster. Which you usually are, by the way."

She could've gone on – add a bit of sarcasm, a tinge of buffoonery and maybe a tint of flattery to her close-to-honesty speech. However, her thoughts are interrupted by the phone wailing. Kaito straightens up and reaches over the desk to pick it up, used to answering phone calls in his childhood friend's house. "Hello?"

"Nakamori," says the voice. It was raspy and deep, obviously disguised to conceal an identity. Kaito's eyes widened, and instinctively, he reaches over and records the conversation.

"Who is this?" He glances at Aoko, who freezes at the goofy prankster's sudden air of sternness. He mouths at Aoko and tells her to call her dad, and in a second, she's scrambling towards the kitchen.

Aoko gets there just in time to see her father close his phone. "Dad," she gasped from the doorway. "There's a weird person on the phone. You might want to be there."

Nakamori had his doubts. He raised his eyebrows at his daughter's alarm, wanting to know what was going on. However, before he could ask, Aoko was bolting back into the living room.

When she returned, she felt her heart clench.

Kaito looked horrified. It wasn't the kind of horror he got whenever fish is involved. That look on his face right there? That's concern – pure, genuine terror.

"What do you want?" he growls. Kaito taps on the desk as he listens to the man's response. Then, his fingers go still, and she could see his chest freeze beneath the polo.

Her father walks in at that moment and, feeling the tense atmosphere, he says, "Kaito-kun?" The young boy looks at the Inspector and holds a finger to his lips.

Suddenly, the air feels very chilly. Aoko could feel her heart running cold as she continued to listen to Kaito – the silly bright-eyed Kaito – converse with the unknown recipient in an iced, steely voice.

Finally, he puts down the phone. For a minute, he stood still – gripping the edge of the desk, his shoulders tense. Then, Nakamori took a step forward. "Kaito-kun, what was that?"

"Kidnapping."

Aoko and Nakamori freeze, the gears in their brains working fast. _Kidnapping, _Aoko thought. Kidnapping is a crime that she was far from familiar with, even if her father is a cop – the head of a Task Force dedicated to capture a world-famous criminal, actually. But that's just it! The criminal that he's after is – in her opinion – merely an annoying, attention-seeking buffoon who can't sit still.

As far as she's concerned, Kid doesn't _kidnap _people. He doesn't hurt people, he doesn't _kill._ The thief was even said to have jumped off aircrafts and buildings to save some butts. Before the snipers came, Kid's 'honor code,' as people liked to call it, was what eased Aoko's anxiety towards her father's safety.

And now, for some blasted reason, they were dealing with kidnapping!

"Kidnapping?" Nakamori spluttered. "Kaito-kun, that's—"

"_Nakamori."_ The Inspector paused and gaped at the black device held between Kaito's fingers. The young boy was replaying the entire conversation, which he had recorded.

"_Who is this?"_

"_That doesn't matter."_

Aoko heard her footsteps in the background, before hearing Kaito's response. _"I'm not the Inspector—"_

"_Then I want you to pass a message, kid."_ A soft chuckle. _"I have a request. And his daughter. Lovely girl she is, you know?"_

"_Aoko!" _Kaito's voice snaps. _"She's alright? I want to talk to her. Nothing happens until then." _Aoko glances immediately at her childhood friend. His face was stoic, revealing nothing. Deep down, she wondered why he never told the guy she was safe. Why did Kaito go along with it?

A ruffle comes from the other line. Then,_"dad?" _A voice. It was a girl's voice, probably the same age as Aoko. _"Dad, don't do anything he tells you to! Don't—"_

The girl was cut off – probably, the phone was taken away from her. Then, she could hear a long pause. _Kaito was collecting himself, _she thought. The voice wasn't hers, but it could be real. It _must _be real.

"_What do you want?" _He whispers in an odd tone.

"_Simple. I want Kaitou Kid delivered to me in a week – dead or alive, it doesn't matter."_

A sharp breath. All at once, the gears in Aoko and Nakamori's brains seemed to stop, their mind suddenly unable to work properly. Then, _"Shit,"_ Nakamori whispered.

"_I don't want you ratting about this to the police. The second you do, deal's gone." _She could just feel the wicked grin grow at this point. _"We'll be waiting."_ The phone beeps, signaling the end of the conversation. Then, she hears a click from the tape recorder as Kaito presses the button to stop it.

For a while, it was silent. Kaito, staring at a faraway wall, looked more somber than Aoko's ever seen him before. Her dad, she realized, had gone tense – a colorful stream of curses rambling off his lips in hushed, steady fury. She didn't know how she looked at the moment. That is, until she saw Kaito glance at her from the corner of her eye.

"Aoko," he breathed. "Are you okay?"

She glanced at herself at the mirror. Her face was pale, and her expression was contorted into uncontrolled guilt. "Somewhere out there," she gasped, "someone is suffering in my place."

Nakamori's eyes became wide. "Aoko that's not—it's not—it's those—we don't even know if this is real!"

"I think it is," Kaito whispered. He turned to the Inspector. "It would take a total nutcase to prank a cop like this. Either he wants to go to jail that bad, or it's real."

Nakamori's eyes narrowed, lip caught between his teeth. _He had a point. _

"Well there's still the off-chance that this is all just some kind of sick joke," Aoko whispered, teeth clenching.

"I hope it is," Kaito murmured. Then, glancing at Nakamori, "you should capture Kid, Inspector," he says. Aoko flinched in response, fearing what this little fiasco could do to Kaito. He doesn't wish for Kid to be captured. He never did.

"That's impossible," Nakamori said, more a breath than anything. "I've been trying to do just that for twenty years! He already pulled a heist yesterday. Next notice will probably come next week, and that'll be too late! Besides, let's say that if by some miracle, he sends it before the deadline. Who says that he won't escape like always? Especially now that I won't have the Task Force's support!"

"It isn't like you to give up, Inspector," Kaito says, smiling reassuringly. "You're the only cop who could measure up to Kid. Who says that you can't capture him at his next heist? This is a life that's at stake here, so you have to do it. You _will _catch him."

Aoko could feel a breath catch in her throat as she watched Kaito – for the first time in her life – root for her father over the thief that he supposedly idolized. Then, out of nowhere, her father dripped out a grim, humorless chuckle.

"You're a little ahead in thought, Kaito-kun. I don't even have a lead to finish the first step yet. How can I confront Kid without arousing suspicion from the police?" _I'm completely deviating from the law,_ he thought. _The values keeping me together are falling apart!_

"You're right," Kaito whispered in hopelessness. However, this tone was something Aoko could identify. It was a part of the Kaito she knew – the tone he'd use during the stagnant seconds right before a sudden burst of magic. "How the heck can we capture Kid in such short notice without arousing suspicion?"

"Oh no, Kaito-kun. It's not _we. _It's _me._ This case is far too dangerous for a kid. You and Aoko forget about it." Then, turning to his daughter, he said, "Don't worry. We'll save her."

From behind him, she could see Kaito give her a goofy, lopsided grin. _It will be okay._

For the first time since the phone call, she finally managed a genuine smile.

"I know."

* * *

Author's Note.

Hi hi! I have been reading too much crime fics lately. Anyway, FINALLY, this 2K+ monster is done! When I thought of the plot, I didn't think that each chapter would take this long. I mean, in my chapter summary, all that I wrote was "Kaito, Aoko and Nakamori receive phone call from kidnapper." Whew!


	2. Then I'm counting on it

Then I'm counting on it

_When the two towers collide,_

_I shall take the prized Alexandria_

_(doodle)_

When the Detective Boys asked Conan to play soccer with them that morning, he didn't accept it. Rather, he _couldn't._ Because his thoughts were swirling quickly. Violently.

Ran still hasn't come home.

No phone calls, no witnesses, no leads to her whereabouts. She isn't like that. She isn't the type to make people worry. She can't be easily hurt or abducted because she's strong and smart. _But she's also brave,_ Conan thought, heart freezing. It wouldn't be difficult to imagine her getting hurt in someone else's place. Hurt or worse.

Out of nowhere, he felt something warm nudge his cheek. Swirling, he found Ayumi smiling at him, holding out some melon pan with her right hand, since the left was occupied with a paper bag stuffed with more food. "You should eat something, Conan-kun," she said with a hint of concern. "You'll be able to think more clearly with a full stomach!"

"Ah, thanks," he replied, forcing a smile before taking the snack from her. He took a bite, and drew a circle at the map laid down before him – hoping that he could find some clue, _any clue, _by figuring which route Ran may have taken.

Then, realizing that this was getting him nowhere, sugar-coated fingers froze, and he shook his head – eyes thinning. He needs to _think! _Where could she be? There has to be a hint there somewhere. He just needs to identify it, and then piece it all together!

He backtracked to the events before her disappearance. Ran left the house – there was nothing unusual about her attire and behavior. She claimed to be meeting up with Sonoko to try out this new café just around the corner of Ekoda. When Kogoro asked Sonoko later, she confirmed that indeed, Ran was with her 'til five in the afternoon. There was apparently nothing off about her that day.

Ran was simply being Ran.

This led Conan to believe in the horrible possibility that she had been attacked. But by who? And how? Person must've been insanely strong if they managed to take her. Or maybe they were…_armed._

"Crap," he muttered, crumpling the edge of the map. Ayumi, Mitsuhiko and Genta took a step back, while Ai sent him a dark look.

They were bundled beneath a tree at the local park. It was a good day. However, the harmonious and chirpy Sunday afternoon didn't seem to fit well with Conan's edgy, jittery mood. Still, his foul temper having a negative effect on the children's pleasant dispositions lunged at the bottom of his mental list of priorities.

"Alright," Ai sighed, facing the three kids. "Let's play by the swing set."

"But Conan—"

"—will be fine," she assured Genta. Standing up, she ushered the children away from the moping detective. "Now go play. I'll follow."

She shot them a steady look before they could protest, and in a second, the children were scuttling away from the two shrunken teenagers. Ai sat herself next to Conan, who was slouching over – face empty as he stared long and hard at the crinkly map of Beika and Ekoda.

"I take it that it's not going so well?" she inquired. There was a pause, and that's all she needed see in order to know. Silence prolonged, but their minds were loud.

Finally, Conan whispered, "You don't think that it's _them, _do you?"

Ai blinked, and then drew a deep breath. "No. They'd have no reason to take her. And I doubt that they know about who we are. Otherwise, we'd all be cold, bleeding corpses by now."

A cold chuckle emitted from the shrunken detective's lips. "Way to sugar-coat it, Haibara," he murmured. However, despite the ice that was his voice, Ai still managed to perceive a tint of relief in his tone. She also noticed, from the far corner of her eye, a man slowly and tensely approach the Detective Boys.

He was around Kogoro's age, but clothed in laid-back, loose garments. He also had a long, stern-looking face. However, judging by the vibrant, clownish suitcase he held in one hand, and the way that the children immediately warmed up to him just by the few sentences he spoke, she assumed that his personality deviated far from his looks.

"An aspiring street magician," Ai hummed in disinterest as she watched him flash some predictable magic trick to the kids. They were impressed, no doubt, but even from afar, she could already tell the trick behind the vanishing cards. She turned to Conan, who had averted his eyes back to the map, clearly not interested in anything that had nothing to do with Ran.

"Conan-kun! Haibara-san!" Mitsuhiko yelled, bolting towards the two – Ayumi and Genta right beside him. "Look at this! It's so cool!"

Conan's head slowly shot up from the map. He took one look at the group, and saw that behind the children, the man was directing a hard, serious look towards him. He might've eyed the man back in wary if he hadn't remembered to put up his childish mask.

"Eh? What is?"

The children stopped in front of him, excited smiles splayed across their faces. Then the man let out a nervous chuckle. "Ahaha, it's a magic trick. A magic trick!"

Conan raised his brows at the man's sudden shyness. Had he been imagining that look?

"I'm an aspiring magician, you see, and I wanted to see how children would react to my tricks before I try out for something big!"

"Oh I see!" Conan mused childishly. "So you wanted to show me?"

"Y-yes!" The man spluttered as he clumsily reached for his suitcase. Conan decided that this man was not going to make it big anytime soon, because he clearly wasn't very good at lying. He opened the suitcase far too wide, enough to let the detective see the glint of thin strings used for hovering cards. Conan also got a glimpse of a deck of playing cards arranged in a way that suggested tricks and traps. The poker face was also practically nonexistent. He was sweating and shrieking while he dropped some cards in the middle of pulling them out, Ayumi, Genta and Mitsuhiko chuckling at his antics.

Suspicions dead, Conan watched the middle-aged man stare at him with a nervous, lopsided grin – seven cards spread out strategically right in front of his face. "Pick a card, little boy!" he said, voice wobbly and high-pitched as he attempted to pull off a confident tone.

_What, _he mentally drawled, lazily picking one up from the middle. _This is the oldest trick in the book!_

"Don't look at it yet." The man beamed before wiggling his fingers around the card, pretending to cast a spell of some sort. Ayumi, Genta and Mitsuhiko fell silent as they leaned their necks forward in eager anticipation. Ai glanced at her nails in mild interest. Conan mentally rolled his eyes.

"Are you going to guess which card I got?" he asked, trying to inject some childlike wonder in his tone – and failing. Really, the Great Detective of the East had no time for silly little magic tricks. All he really wanted to do was find Ran and worry about Ran and kick the bastard who dared to take Ran.

The tips of the man's sharp teeth glinted beneath up-twisted lips. "Not quite," he whispered, soft enough for only Conan to hear. Wary suddenly rising again, he turned the card over and felt his fingers freeze. Attached to it was a note.

_I need to talk to you._

Then, just like that, the card disappeared in a puff of pink smoke. Ayumi, Genta and Mitsuhiko cheered in the background while Conan merely stared at his empty hand in disbelief. Ai, noticing the look on the detective's face, raised her brows.

"Oh my," she murmured, a snicker slowly forming in her face. "Has the Great Detective of the East really been defeated by a silly little magic trick?"

"Of course not, Haibara," Conan replied, composure flooding back. He stared up at the stranger, who was by then 'fretfully' declining the children's requests to be taught the trick. "I'm just amazed. Kaitou Kid's got guts to come all the way here to see me."

Ai's eyes went wide, and she stared at the allegedly middle-aged man in shock and wonder. "K-Kaitou Kid?" she gasped beneath her breath. Her statement was left hanging in the air, however, as the small detective jumped off the bench and went towards the man, bouncing on his heels to feign childish excitement.

"Mister!" he beamed, "Teach me how to do that! Please!"

The man turned away from the three children and cocked his head to the side. "Sure!"

The children, in response, gaped up at the man in utter disbelief.

"_What?_" Genta bellowed, "But we saw it first! It's not fair that only Conan gets to learn all those neat tricks!"

"That's true," Ayumi concurred, tone quiet and disappointed unlike Genta's wild cry or rage. "It's not like we're any more difficult to teach that Conan-kun."

"We won't be a burden!" Mitsuhiko added.

That's when Ai took a step forward to glare at the two boys, a lively, terrifying memory at the Bell Tree Express suddenly bursting all over her head. "Let these two otakus herd together," she spat, voice dripping with venom. "I mean it's not like they tell us anything, even if it clearly involves us. Right?"

Suddenly, the temperature in the park seemed to drop. Lips caught in between his teeth, Conan glanced up at the man. At Kid. Who had decided to drop his jittery façade and stand with that composed, confident composure. Darting his gaze to _anywhere_ but the angry scientist before him, he briskly wondered how Kid could pull off being so unfazed.

"Well?" Ai snapped, causing Conan to jerk out of his daze and the Kid to mentally yelp in surprise. A beat of silence passed, and Kid turned to the children standing horribly still behind Ai.

"Oh, I am _so_ sorry I couldn't teach you today!" he said in that panicky magician persona, bowing lowly to the three kids before giving a small, playful wave. He and Conan turned on their heels and walked down the steps towards the cemented road.

"I take it that you didn't come all the way here to irritate me," Conan said as they rounded a corner. "Shouldn't you be doing whatever it is you do before a heist, Kaitou Kid?"

"I'm afraid that tonight's theft is merely a prop," the thief replied, dropping the middle-aged man's silly voice. "There's something that I need to do, and I can only accomplish it under the guise of a heist."

"And that is..."

"I can't say," he replied, playful tone hiding steel underneath. Conan felt his eye twitch in annoyance.

"I didn't get pulled out in the middle of an important business to keep guessing your antics."

"I didn't call you out to waste your time either," the thief muttered, dull and distant – all hints of playfulness suddenly wiped clean off his face. This, at least, made Conan pause and prepare for a serious talk. They stopped in adarkened alley and rested their backs on opposite ends of each other. Then, Kid held out a black recording device between two masked fingers. "I think that you might recognize this voice."

There was a moment of whirring on the other end before the sound came. _"Dad? Dad, don't do anything he tells you to! Don't–" _A shuffle and a click as Kid put an end to it before stuffing it back into his pocket.

For a minute, it was silent. Conan's thoughts seemed to stop all of a sudden, brain refusing to circulate and analyze anything. Then the voice that he heard repeated itself in his mind, successfully piercing through his heart like a spear. That was Ran's voice. _Holy crap! _That was Ran whimpering and keening right there! This is _bad!_

_This. Is. So. Bad._ This cannot be happening.

"So it is her," Kid sighed, knowing perfectly well what the silence meant. Instead of answering, though, Conan snapped his gaze at the thief – eyes wild and dangerously cold.

"Why do you have that?"

"I just do."

"Where is she?"

"I don't know."

"What do they _want?"_

"Me."

Conan's mouth froze, and he cast his gaze downwards, face paling even further. "Crap," he hissed.

The street suddenly felt very quiet. It wasn't a place people liked to pass by often, and besides the constant ruffle of the trees, nothing but the distant traffic was really perceptible. "So why come here?" Conan finally asked.

Kaitou Kid straightened his back against the wall and stared tiredly at the wall right above Conan's head. "It could only go two ways, Detective," he mused. "You could capture me now and save her, or you could figure out all that we need to save her. Either way, with you on the case, the chances of success are high."

Conan slouched against the wall, arms falling limply at his sides. _So it all comes down to me, _he thought, eyes darkening. Sure, he's thrilled to have full access to the clues. He's glad that he's not being kept in the dark regarding his childhood friend, of all people. Still, there's that pressure of weight.

Ran's life was basically in his hands, so he absolutely _must not _fail because goddamn it! He can't afford to let her die! This is Ran! Stubborn, beautiful, smart, irreplaceable Ran!

"Why would they even take her to get to you? Sure, I'm the 'Kid Killer,' but I'm physically just a seven year old with an eight p.m. bedtime. And the kidnapper didn't even call us."

"I'm afraid that there was a mistake in the kidnapper's part," Kid muttered, "Their true target was actually the Inspector's daughter, who happens to look a lot like Mouri-san."

Conan's eyes were suddenly wide, and his face had gone very pale. "No," he rasped. "No, no, no, no, _no! _If they find out – if they –"

"They don't know it yet," Kid cut him off. "The person who answered the phone call didn't let them know about their slip-up. I don't think that Mouri-san is going to let them know either."

Conan visibly calmed. He took a small breath before asking, "How do you know all this?"

"I listened to the call," Kid drawled with a lighthearted grin. "Overheard the commotion in the Inspector's house while I was preparing myself for the next heist."

"And you stole the recording device," Conan slapped his hand against his face. Kid smirked.

"I wanted to help," he said. "Besides, they have two copies."

"Anyway, how much time do we have?"

"Six days,"

The smallest hint of a leer tinted Conan's face. "That's more than enough time to catch these bastards. Kid, I won't capture you. You shouldn't let yourself get captured either, otherwise, we'll lose all leads with no assurance of Ran's life. I'll be doing my own research about everyone you stole from. If I could narrow down the list of suspects by tonight, that'd be great."

"I'll do my own research about that. But you need anything else?" Kid asked, all shadows and charm. There was a pause in which Conan tried to process the fact that the Kid was _willing _to help him out in the case. Still, he supposed that it really wasn't that big of a shock. He knew from experience that the thief's sense of justice was high (and that was _very _strange considering his line of work).

"Police reports about cases that have you involved. Think you could get that?"

A chuckle. "Of course."

Conan sighed. "We'll pick up something from it. We'll find leads. Definitely."

A small smile ghosted over the thief's face – so quick that Conan isn't even sure if it had been there.

"Then I'm counting on it, detective."

* * *

Author's Note

My GOD! I think that this is even longer than the last one!

And thank you all so much for leaving a review (for reading this in general, actually!) You're all so wonderful. I don't deserve you. Haha!

Anyway, if you do catch some spelling or grammar mistakes, don't hesitate to point it out to me. I've been working on this through my tablet 'cause my laptop decided to make my life more difficult by breaking down. So yeah, no autocorrect, boohoo.

I hope that you liked this! It'll probably be one of the longer chapters. I'm sorry, I must've broken some of your eyes.


	3. Truce

Truce

"You should tranquilize him."

Aoko slammed some eggs into a lunch box while absentmindedly watching her father thunder up and down the staircase – papers and necktie flying in his wake. The household has been in absolute chaos the very second Kaitou Kid sent his heist notice that morning, not that it was unusual. It was an everyday thing for Nakamori to explode into a sudden burst of energy, especially since Kid's sudden surge of activity.

"Tranquilize Kid and stuff him into a sack. I keep one in my room. Sometimes keeps Kaito in. It might work for him too," she added, shutting the bento box lid with a satisfying click. Then, she glanced at her father. Nakamori was only giving her half of his attention while he furiously buckled his belt into place. It hurt, but Aoko learned long ago that if she avoids dwelling on the stinging stabs of pain, she could minimize the bother. Besides, she knew better than to mope about it now.

Nakamori needed all the vigor that he could get, considering what's at stake.

"Maa, dad, don't forget to bring your lunch, okay? And did you hear what I said?"

"Aoko, I doubt that a sack could hold the Kid," replied the man.

"Even if he's unconscious?"

"Even if I do manage to knock him out with a tranquilizer," he quipped, patting his blazer into place. "Besides, I doubt that the Task Force wouldn't notice something as extreme as the Kid suddenly falling over to nap."

The girl gave her father an odd look, before packing a pair of chopsticks – face barely containing fear. "So what now? The only chance we'll have at saving her is by shooting Kid down."

Nakamori suddenly stopped, the folder he had hastily been scanning through frozen in between his fingers. Aoko did have a point, but it was one he'd rather not think about.

Kid has never hurt anybody. Saved his bacon a few times before, even. He _couldn't _shoot him. Still, he couldn't exactly clear his mind of the hostage's voice. A young girl, just like his daughter. One who probably had a father, maybe even a mother, frantic and worried, just waiting for her to come home.

Kid or her. Kid or her. A criminal, or an innocent citizen?

Damn, he was gambling with two lives. Two _people, _for goodness sake! He wouldn't have that. It was wrong in so many ways.

Whirling around, he sighed and gave his daughter a serious stare. Damn parents better be grateful when he does manage to save the girl. He was putting his job on the line.

"Aoko, about that sack..."

_When the two towers collide,_

_I shall take the prized Alexandria_

_(doodle)_

Kid's notice for that heist was fairly easy to decode. The two towers he was referring to were actually two hotels in Beika situated on perpendicular ends. Their shadows collided when the sun descended to the West – that's sunset in Japan, approximately five to six o' clock in the afternoon.

The Task Force spent half a day analysing it, worrying all the while that bombs were going to make two buildings crash. It wasn't until later that day, when a little boy relayed a message from the great detective, Mouri Kogoro, did they realize what the code meant.

Now, contrary to popular belief, Nakamori was far from foolish. He always set up the traps with meticulous precision. It's just that the Kid always has been a slippery one. However, twenty years has proven that he was the most capable cop when it comes to chasing after the white-clad thief.

Although he was a joke to the other divisions, in the Task Force and Interpol, (and to all those who have experienced first hand what it was like to chase the thief), he was quite respected.

Which is why he managed to get a hold of a tranquilizer gun.

Currently, Nakamori stood in front of an cased alexandrite gemstone, which was called the 'Alexandria' because of it's previous owner's rich backstory. The Task Force was strategically scattered about the room, gas mask on to prevent the success of Kid's usual sleeping gas trick.

It was eerily silent inside the hall, save for the hollow echo of cops' heavy breathing. Nakamori decided to keep just a few men in, particularly because he wanted to keep as little witnesses as possible.

"Inspector, it's five thirty," a uniform by the window said. Nakamori's heart clenched in apprehension.

"Well keep your eyes open. This is Kid, and we've still got thirty minutes to go."

"It's quite flattering to see you commend my skills, Inspector," a husky voice whispered from behind him. "I'd hate to disappoint."

Everyone in the room abruptly turned to their heels, breaths catching beneath their gas masks.

Kaitou Kid is standing on top of the glass case, the Alexandria a bright, yellow glint between his white-gloved fingers. He looked at them with that usual perceptive smirk, eye and monocle obscured by the brim of his top hat. Behind him, the cape slowly flutters down, resting still just behind his ankles.

Unconsciously, Nakamori tightened the grip around his tranquilizer, which was hidden beneath his suit. Then, before anything else could happen, the lights suddenly died, and smoke burst from all sides of the room. They heard the glass shatter, exposing them to the thief's screaming fans far below the building. Then,

"It's Kid!" a uniform called out from across the room.

By the time that the smoke dissipated into thin streaks, a white, triangular form was already gliding away.

_No! _The Inspector thought as he screamed orders for his men to follow. _No, no, no! Not now, just for this heist, just hear me out!_

Nakamori turned to his heels to tag along with the hasty, confused bustle which was his cops. However, along the way, someone had bumped into him. In the darkness, he wasn't able to tell who had done it. What he did know, however, is that it stopped him from catching up with the Force. He also knew that by the time that he got up, they – along with the thief – had become unreachable. He clenched his teeth, a wild flurry of curses almost leaving his lips. Almost.

Because before he could get the first dreadful word out, he heard a soft shuffling noise.

That's when he saw Kaitou Kid gait from the shadows, footsteps soundless as he walked towards the window to hold up the gemstone. It suddenly occurred to him that the thief couldn't see him. There were no hidden cameras, either. They were alone. If he tranquilized Kid and stuffed him into a sack now, no one would have to know about it.

Hands shaking, he aimed the tranquilizer gun at the thief, lips curled grimly as her slowly coiled his fingers around the trigger. Then –

"You've gotten smart, Inspector," the thief suddenly spoke, gemstone sagging down with the rest of his arm. Then, his monocle glinted as he turned to Nakamori, face revealing nothing. However, the Inspector could still somehow tell that he was eyeing the tranquilizer gun.

"I don't intend to hurt you," he suddenly blurted – knowing perfectly well that that the Kid could easily differentiate a tranquilizer gun from a brutal killing machine even in the dark, but not wanting to risk giving him the wrong idea. The last thing he needed is for him to escape. Again. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"Oh? About what?" Again with that promising look that says that he already knows. Nakamori always found it irritating and unnerving, but he decided to focus his stress on what to say instead. One wrong word could end with the thief slipping from his fingers. It could end with a young girl – who could've been Aoko – dead, and he can't have that. Not now, not when there's a life at stake.

"Calm down, Inspector," Kid suddenly says with an air of playfulness, but voice brimming with just a tint of concern. That's how the Inspector realized that he was sweating as he pondered on how to relay the message.

To his surprise, the thief walked away from the window, cape and features mingling with the shadows. He hopped on top of the glass case and stood there, looking just like he did when he first arrived. "This humble thief is willing to hear you out. Now what did you want to tell me?"

"I got a call yesterday," says Nakamori, eyeing the thief, looking for a reaction. An emotion. But there was nothing. "A girl was kidnapped in my daughter's place, and the criminal wants the ransom by the end of the week." There was a pause, and his lips twisted. "Kid, the ransom is you."

Kid didn't react, his poker face shatterproof. When wind from the window picked up and caught his cape, Nakamori saw that his posture is as lithe and relaxed as always.

And for a moment, he panicked. What if he overestimated Kid? What if he really doesn't care about the safety of others?

"Kid, you –"

The thief held up a gloved hand, hat lowering and obscuring more of his features. "Inspector," he whispered. "To find her, I'll need police reports about the cases that involve me. Do you think you could get me that?"

Nakamori's mind stopped as the shock of his current situation slapped him like a hot pan. _Holy shit! _he thought. _Holy Shit! Kid, Phantom Thief Kid whom I've been chasing after half of my life is helping!_

"Of course!" he boomed, hope welling up in his chest. However, twenty years of tag couldn't exactly be thrown out of the window at a mere drop of a hat. His eyes thinned. "I need to know that I could trust you, though. How can you prove that this isn't all some elaborate plan of yours?"

Kid shrugged. "How can I? Other than the fact that I could steal those files anytime I wanted to, you're right. There is no solid proof that I didn't plan any of this." He sounded more serious than Nakamori's ever heard him before. Ever.

"So why don't you just steal it? Why go through the trouble of asking me?" By then, the Inspector was more curious than suspicious. The bigger part of him doubted Kid's involvement in this crime. Despite his constant denials, he respected the thief to a certain extent.

"I was thinking that you wouldn't want me sneaking around your office dressed as a cop."

"Fine! Fine!" He rolled his eyes. "When and where?"

"Haido City Hotel. I'll pass by it sometime in the afternoon."

Nakamori sucked in a breath, sharply. "Okay."

Then, something from across the building caught Kid's eye, because the thief suddenly froze over. Half a second later, he was leaping down – a soft hiss escaping his lips.

Nakamori watched, gaping and confused, as said Phantom thief gaited to the side in one swift motion. Then, there was a bang, and to Nakamori's horror, something small burst into the wall behind the spot Kid had been standing on, before he heard a soft, metallic clank roll on the floor. A bullet.

Someone had tried to kill Kid again, and although Nakamori already knew this, seeing it up-close and so close to succeeding filled him with such dread and terror.

"K-Kid –" he gasped, eyes fixated on the bullet, "w-what in the..."

"I'm afraid that it is time for me to take my leave, Inspector," the thief said, tipping his hat down.

"Kid, who the hell is trying to do this to you?" Nakamori finally snapped, eyes averting from the bullet. However, by the time that he looked up, Kid was already gone.

* * *

Author's note:

My gOd! You guys are amazing! 19 reviews, that's the most I've gotten in two chapters! Wow. THANK YOU SO MUCH!

Haha! Oh, and now for some shameless self-advertisement.

*aherm* I recently posted a one-shot entitled "A Criminal's Fiasco." And by recently, I mean days ago. My mental clock is messed up. I am so sorry.

Anyway, the story is about two non-professional jewel thieves who decide to take Kaito as their hostage since he was the closest, "helpless" hostage within their reach. It was supposed to be sillier but...nope! I just _had_ to make Aoko's agony realistic. Damn it.


	4. DB

DB

When Aoko came to school the next morning, she knew that it was going to be a difficult day. Because inside the classroom, the girls were clawing for the top of the chalkboard. And perched on top of the chalkboard was Kaito.

And the girls were livid.

"Oi, oi, it isn't my fault that the smoke bombs exploded," Kaito said in a calm, rational tone. He easily dodged to the side as one of the girls – Tanaka-san – made a feeble attempt of whopping him with the mop.

"Yes it is!"

"Be a man and face us, Kaito-kun!"

"Get down from there!"

"Tanaka-san, what is going on?" Aoko asked, walking over to the angry group of girls. At the sight of her, they all visibly lit up. Kaito paled.

"One of Kaito-kun's smoke bombs somehow placed in our locker room exploded while we were changing yesterday, and it dyed all our stuff pink!"

Aoko pursed her her lips and darted a glare at Kaito, who straightened up and braced himself – the mocking grin remaining intact.

"Tanaka-san, please lend me the mop," she muttered.

The bundle of birds perched on the windowsill squawked and fluttered, a bustle of hectic feathers, when something inside the classroom boomed and banged.

* * *

"This is so unfair,"

Sitting lazily on the teacher's table, Kaito picked up a chalk and balanced it on top of his nose. Classes have already ended minutes ago, and the two were stuck to clean up the mess they have made. "Why do I have to clean up? I didn't break anything. Unlike Ahoko – Woah"

He dodged to the left, chalk landing on his lap, and reached his palms out to the front of his face to catch a candy wrapper being hurled his way. Aoko frowned at her failed attempt of injuring her best friend with an obviously head-damaging weapon, before slowly putting an arm down. "Such a baby,"

"Am not!" Kaito cried, attention quickly shifting to the candy wrapper at hand. He absentmindedly folded the piece of cellophane smaller and smaller until seeming to make it disappear in a bright burst of confetti. Aoko stared after the mini show for a second, before stomping over to the young magician.

Mop-empty hands on her hips, she hovered over him. "You help out too!"

"But I'm not that one woman force of chaos who couldn't keep her mop in place!"

"And I'm not the bumbling buffoon who can't stop turning everyone and everything pink!"

"And I swear, teachers that need to deal with you two deserve a sharp salary increase."

Kitsimura-sensei, the english teacher, stood tiredly by the classroom doorframe. She glanced around the place that had once been a well-kept classroom – now a pink, messy clutter of chairs, tables, and a cracked chalkboard. Then, she averted her gaze to the two high school students.

Aoko Nakamori and Kaito Kuroba's mop chases and silly antics have become daily occurrences in their beloved High School. They never got punished for it. Not until today, that is, because the two were exceptionally bright students. Bright students tended to know their limits. But as it turns out, even bright students may cross the line.

"Ah, sensei," Kaito said, prancing over to the teacher's side and producing a rose out of thin air. With the air of an obnoxious gentleman trying to piss off a certain Aoko Nakamori, he says, "perk up! A tired look doesn't suit such a pretty face!"

Another reason that they managed to stay unpunished for such a long period of time, however, is the measly fact that Kuroba has this tendency to swoon the female teachers but...it's not something that Ekoda High would like to admit, so forget that I ever said that.

"Kuroba-kun..." Kitsimura gasped, cheeks growing hot.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I, Kaito Kuroba, must take my leave." Then, without so much as childishly sticking his tongue out at his childhood friend, he disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Aoko stared at the empty space, mouth blubbering curses in her blatant indignation, while the woman beside her slowly clapped her hands.

"He's so talented, isn't he?"

In the end, Aoko had to fix the rest of the room herself.

"Nakamori-san, don't forget to close the doors before you leave, okay?"

And man was she mad. Her polite "okay" and steady footsteps did not reveal that she was seething and more than willing to shove a fish into Kaito's mouth. She marched down the street and around the blocks – strides increasing – before a thought of the kidnapping swiftly crossed her mind.

She held on to it, realizing that she still didn't know how her father was doing. And then, all of a sudden, all thoughts about Kaito was thrown off the window when the idea that her father never once spoke to her after Kid's heist struck her.

It could mean so many things. Kid escaped, and he cannot face her. Her father found leads, and was putting himself in danger. Kid decided to help him, and they were figuring things out (though Aoko highly doubted this option).

Well, whatever it was, it was serious enough to keep him from scrambling like a headless chicken in the morning, and actually leave the house with a somber look on his face.

Shoes chafting against the pavement, she made a turn that lead to her father's office, rather than to their home. She should ask him there herself if she wants to sleep well that evening. After all, who knows if he'll be up enough when he gets home to tell his little ol' Aoko about trivial matters she shouldn't even stick her nose into?

Typical!

* * *

"Oh, Aoko-san!" one of the older Task Force officers familiar enough with the system to know Nakamori's daughter greeted as she entered the office. "If you're looking for your father, he said he was going to Haido. I don't know where exactly, but he did have an awful lot of files with him."

Aoko cocked her head to the side. "Files? About what?"

"People that Kid's stolen from in the past twenty years," Nishimura – Aoko recognized him – said from across the room.

"I think that he's trying to figure out who's trying to snipe the Kid," a newbie sitting across Nishimura said.

"Why would he do that? The Interpol is already working on that, right?"

The officer to greet the young girl placed a finger under his chin. "I'd like to ask him that myself, but he's been real busy running about the office and staring at his phone all day to actually answer."

"I get the feeling that he's keeping something to him—_ah! Aoko-san!" _

Aoko left the office in a hurry, quick legs leading her to Haido even if she knew from the bottom of her heart that she'd have no idea where to go when she got there.

However, there was no denying the giddy beats of her heart. _He's figured something out, _she thought. _The tranquilizer gun and my sack must've worked!_

Minutes later, her shoes left a small trail of dust as she expertly skid across the pavement to make a sharp turn at a blind corner – face dropping when she saw four heads bob up and freeze at the sight of her.

_"Oof!"_

Next thing she knew, she was kissing pavement – a large little boy sprawled beneath her. His face was a mixture of shock and disbelief, just like the three other children who managed to dodge before the impact.

"Oh my gosh! I am so sorry!" she cried, standing up to dust her pleats before gently offering a hand to the child. He didn't respond. He just stared and stared, not unlike the others. This worried Aoko. "Are you okay?"

Then, "Ran-neesan?"

Aoko turned around and found that the person who said that was a dark-haired little girl. She cautiously took a step forward, a freckled little boy following not too far behind.

Before she could open her mouth to say anything, however, the children were suddenly frantic – jumping up and down and screaming!

"Where have you been, Ran-neesan?"

"Conan-kun's been so worried!"

"Why are you wearing that?"

"Were you kidnapped?"

"Did you karate chop the bad guys?"

"Maa, Aoko, I leave you for a minute and you decide to go whopping innocent kids. What is wrong with you?"

Everyone turned to their heels – Aoko a little faster than the rest.

Kaito was standing next to the stoplight pole, his satchel (bulkier than it had been compared to this morning, for some odd reason) slung lazily across his shoulder.

Again, the children stood frozen. And before they could raise another clamor, the other little girl cleared her throat.

"He isn't Kudo-kun," she stated.

So, the kids paused. They leaned forward. They stared and narrowed their eyes. Then, they squeaked.

"It's him!" the large boy Aoko had bumped into cried, his statement earning him a confused look from the little girl.

"You know him, Kojima-kun?"

"Yeah! It's that guy we saw at the island! The one with the fake jewels and gunmen! Remember? We told you about him!"

"Oh?"

Kaito flinched, for some odd reason, before the accusations started to unfold.

"He's the one who tied up the crocodiles' mouths with rubber bands!"

"Yes! He helped us run from that angry pig!"

"Not to mention that scary trolley that had broken rails!"

"Niisan, aren't you the guy who doesn't like fish?" the dark-haired girl finished, flashing Kaito a sweet, kind-hearted smile.

Aoko's breath seemed to catch in her throat, and she turned to Kaito so fast, her head might've snapped.

"What have you been _doing_?"

"It wasn't me!" Kaito cried, waving his hands in front of him in a defensive manner. "It must've been a mistake! A mistake! Or you children must have some pretty wild imaginations, huh? Ahaha...ha...ha..."

"We're not lying!" the large kid – Kojima, was it? – yelped in defiance.

"I get you. The fish part is pretty fishy, after all," Aoko drawled.

"Stop saying the name of those finny critters!"

"Well then explain, Kaito. Now."

The young magician shrugged. _Poker face. Poker face_. "It must've been that Kudo guy," he finally said after awhile. "Geez, Aoko. I'm not the only person in this world who's ichthyophobic!"

"Ichthyo...what?" the dark-haired girl murmured.

"Ichthyophobic," the other little girl started, making Kaito freeze, though Aoko couldn't tell why. "A person who suffers from ichthyophobia, fear of fish. Now who would've thought...that _you_ of all people would have this kind of condition?"

Aoko eyed the child in awe for a few seconds, wondering how such a little girl manage to pull off a more intimidating aura than her. Then, as if sensing the stare, the child turned to her and smiled. "I saw it on tv the other day!"

"Oh, is that so?" Well, whatever. Little girls are little girls. She glanced at Kaito, who was sweating by that time. "You know him?"

There was a tinge of amusement coloring her tone. "I might, if my suspicions are correct."

_What?_

"I don't know you!" Kaito suddenly spouted. "I don't know any weird, evil-eyed demon spawns!"

"Shut up, Kaito! You don't say that to little girls!"

"Well at least I don't run over little boys, white-pantied Ahoko!"

"Who said that you could look at my panties, Bakaito!"

"White-pantied Ahoko!"

"Loco monkey Bakaito!"

Their banters have escalated to its usual glory by then, complete with the confetti bursting at some point, and the resounding echo a mop slicing through air. By that time, the little girl looked extremely shocked and amused.

Then, Aoko decided to put the mop – which was conveniently placed inside a nearby house's gate – down to face the children. It was then that they realized that the three kids were absolutely floored.

"Hey, niichan! Are you a magician?" Kojima gasped.

Kaito paused for a moment, eyes darting to the 'evil-eyed demon spawn' every once in awhile. Then he replied, "Not really."

"Kaito, what is wrong with you?!" Aoko hissed, causing the boy to stiffen. Magic was his world. She didn't understand why he'd suddenly stoop himself to low pedestals when it came to the one thing that he was absolutely passionate about. "You've turned the entire school into a messed-up fiasco because of your magic! You've been gloating about it to me all your life, for goodness sake, and then suddenly, you're saying that you're not really a magician?"

The little girl raised her brows.

"This is just like the day I first realized that you were afraid of fish! Even after all the fuss that you made, you still refused to admit that you were scared!"

"How bad is his ichthyophobia?" the little girl asked.

"Very bad," Aoko smiled, tone and expression lightening up in that split second. She ignored the freaked-out yelps Kaito was making behind her and continued, "One time, when he flipped my skirt up and saw that I was wearing fish-printed panties, he started screaming like a little girl and he couldn't do anything after that!"

"Hm," she eyed him. "Gentleman, huh?"

"Aoko! You're giving her too much info!"

"Ooh, this reminds me of the time I dragged him to the aquarium back when we were young. Kaito was so adorable, crying and sniveling like a scared llama. You never told me why you pulled down the fire alarm, nee, Kaito! If only you said that you were scared, then I might've—"

"Aoko!"

She poked him teasingly on the cheek. "Aww, not so cool now, are we?"

"You have no idea," the little girl huffed beneath her breath.

Kaito grumbled a flurry of death curses which Aoko decided to ignore, before turning towards the children. That's when she realized that it was getting late, and she still hasn't asked her father about Kid.

"I'm really sorry about bumping into you," she gently smiled at Kojima, causing her childhood friend to roll his eyes.

"He'll be okay. We're sorry we said so much after you apologized, neesan," the skinny one said, bowing.

"That's okay. It was a misunderstanding."

A grim look crossed over the children's faces just before Aoko could turn to walk away. Then, deciding that it wouldn't hurt to linger just a little longer, she asked, "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, neechan. You just look like someone who's been missing for awhile," the dark-haired little girl whispered.

Aoko's heart seemed to clench. "H-hey...has she been missing for three days? Including today?"

"Yes," the girl whom Kaito did not like said, an odd look suddenly flashing in her eyes.

Aoko swiftly glanced at Kaito and gave him a curt nod. "What's her name?"

"Ran Mouri, daughter of Kogoro Mouri. She lives at Beika, it's not hard to find," she replied, voice devoid of any emotion.

_Kogoro Mouri!_ Aoko thought, internally gasping! _He's that great detective! They took his daughter in my place!_

"Thank you," she stammered, bowing at the four kids before quickly turning to her heels. The children stared curiously at her retreating back – one of them with a look of concern, not quite of a child's, coloring her face.

Kaito's footsteps padded softly behind her. "Aoko! Where the heck are you going?"

"Detective Mouri's agency!"

"But remember what the criminal said! Get the police involved, and deal's off!" He sounded desperate by then, Aoko noticed. Still, she trudged on.

"We're not getting the police involved! Mouri Kogoro is a private investigator! And besides, he deserves to know where his daughter is!"

She rammed down a staircase, Kaito easily keeping up.

"You do realize that they don't recommend investigators to work on personal matters!"

"Well then what do you want me to do? Go all the way to Osaka to pick up the Great Detective of the West? Or maybe call on the Great Detective of the East, Shinichi Kudo, was it? Well he's been missing for a long time, Kaito!"

"Aoko, what I'm saying is—"

"—that I should sit back and do nothing while my dad and Kid work on this case?" She snorted. "No way!"

Kaito suddenly stopped in his tracks, and Aoko did so too to stare back at him. Then realization hit her like a tidal wave.

"Oh, you probably didn't know," she whispered. "I heard that my dad is suddenly acting strange and...well, it's a long story. But I suspect that he managed to convince that crook to help him out."

"Really?"

"That's right! And this time, I refuse to sit still and do nothing!"


	5. Let's Get Along

Let's Get Along!

The narrow staircase leading to Detective Mouri's agency smelt of alcohol and tobacco. It was also dark, with just a very thin stream of orange light illuminating from the gap of the agency's door and the floor.

It's Aoko's first time to be there, but something tells her that it wasn't usually like that. There was a soft touch of vacant loneliness coloring the air, and it sends a shiver down her spine. Without any commotion and clatter, the hall feels empty.

She walked up to the door, fists clenched and held firmly by the door, and hesitated for a moment upon hearing murmurs from the other side. Murmurs from a man and a woman; judging by the tone, the conversation must be serious. Beside her, Kaito stays silent, leaning lazily against the wall and staring down at the staircase with calculating eyes.

She didn't want to interrupt the people in the room, but she knew that she needed to do this. Gathering a breath, her fist collided with the door and made three firm knocks. The murmurings stopped.

About a beat of silence passed before she heard the thumps of heavy footsteps – loud and tired, just like her dad's. Another beat and the lock of the door clicked before creaking a hairline wide. Half of the face of a middle-aged man peeked through the gap.

"Yes? Waddaya want? We're –" He froze, and Aoko saw his eyes quickly travel to her face.

Then, the door swung wide open. _"Ran!"_

The woman sitting on the couch straightened up and snapped her gaze towards them. "Ran?"

"Ah, I – I'm not –" Aoko stammered, stepping back and waving both hands in front of her frantically. The man understood. After prolonging his gaze, he knew that the giddy relief had been for naught. He paused, lips freezing, an unsaid screech of joy hanging in dead air. Then he turned to the woman, now standing, before shrugging tiredly. "False alarm."

The woman sighed, an involuntary whine leaving her lips, before sinking back into the couch and staring blankly at the half-closed windows.

There was no doubt in Aoko's mind that these people are the parents of Ran Mouri. However, she still needed to confirm it. "Are you Kogoro Mouri?"

"Yes, I am," replied the man, voice gruff possibly from continuous smoking. "But I can't take on any case right now."

"You'll want to take on this one," she said, trying very hard to keep her voice strong. "My father's job right now would be so much easier with your help, I'm sure. And his job right now might have something to do with Ran Mouri."

She didn't see their reactions because towards the end of her sentence, her gaze fell to her fingers. She heard it, though, with the sharp intake of breaths. Looking up, she saw that Kogoro Mouri didn't look like he was capable of reacting properly. The woman took action and stood from her place, before rushing towards the girl.

"How is she?" she asked, and Aoko bit her lip. _How is she?_ The question itself has been bugging her several times, preventing her from having any decent sleeps. The idea of a complete stranger suffering in her place felt like having a lit match stabbed into the gut. She felt guilty and absolutely terrible for having to see a woman – who is most probably a mother – in pain.

"Hello!" Kaito suddenly said, saving her from the dilemma of having to answer the question by stepping in front of the woman in one swift motion. "My name is Kaito Kuroba, and this is Aoko Nakamori. What we have to say is quite long, so if you don't mind, may we come in?"

The woman and the detective stared oddly at Kaito for a few seconds, looking like they were trying to find something there and analysing his appearance. Then the man huffed a breath. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered before walking back to the office.

Rolling her eyes, the woman held a hand out. "My name is Eri Kisaki, a lawyer and his wife. You already know who he is. Please. Come in." Then she stepped aside and ushered them towards the couch.

The smell of tobacco was stronger inside the office. That was the first thing Aoko noticed when she craned her neck to catch a glimpse of the room. The second was that it was dimly-lit, the setting sun allowing little rays of its light to stream in through the windows. It touched the ground in soft, orange beams, revealing the gleam of something that is most probably made of tin scattered all over.

Eri flicked on a switch and everything burst with light, illuminating details that had been hidden by shadows. Aoko saw that the office table was stacked with large piles of papers. Pencil shavings and small office equipment were a messy constellation of dots across the table and the floor.

And there were beer cans – empty, spilled and full – _everywhere._

Detective Mouri was already on the couch even when they were just entering the door. Eri didn't waste much time making petty conversation either. Right after the two teenagers were seated, she immediately sat beside her husband – her posture poised and lips pursed tight.

"So how is she?" she repeated her question.

Aoko scooted over to Kaito until their shoulders touched beneath the sleeves; it was more of a nervous habit than anything. "We haven't heard from her in awhile but –"

"In awhile?" Kogoro asked, leaning forward. "You heard from Ran?"

"Dear," Eri snapped, and it made the great detective sink back into the couch. Then, turning back to the two, she said, "Nakamori-san, please go on. Tell us everything you know.

There was a pause. Aoko wasn't sure where to start. Then, she felt Kaito lean towards her.

"Let them listen to the conversation," he whispered.

"What? I didn't bring the recording device with me."

"Yeah you did."

Aoko stuck her hand into her satchel, eager to prove her point, when her finger brushed against a smooth, plastic surface. Her brows furrowed. _How did this get in here?_

She placed the device on the table, glimpsed at the couple and regretted it. Eri Kisaki's perceptive, worried stare pierced right into her heart. Kogoro Mouri's anxious look caused her to cast her gaze down. "This will basically sum everything up," she whispered, pushing the device towards them.

There was a click as her numb finger depresses the button, and for awhile, a whirring sound circulates across the stale air. Then, a voice cuts through.

_"Nakamori..."_

* * *

The sound of a truck whoosh through the road just outside the window filled the silence as Kogoro and Eri sat crouched on the couch, allowing the new information to sink in.

This silence was broken by Kogoro's shaky, low voice. "Hey, kid, could you hand me another can of beer?"

Kaito's hands swiftly ran through the cans beneath the table until he found one that wasn't empty. He carefully handed it to the older man, apparently forgetting to turn on his poker face.

Aoko saw that his eyes were distant, and his brows were curled tight in unease. She knows that he is pained, and possibly even angry. Seeing a father look so troubled has obviously sliced through his heartstrings.

After all, he once had a father himself.

"Sunday, huh?" Comes Eri's soft voice. "And they want..._Kid_."

"What the hell is the inspector doing?" Kogoro bellowed, completely catching Aoko off-guard. "Didn't Kid pull off a heist last night? How could he let that mangy crook _escape_? With what's at stake, how could he slack off?"

"My dad isn't slacking off!" Aoko suddenly snapped, hands at the edge of the table as she looked at the man. _Girl, remember your manners! _screamed her mind. _This is the Great Detective who has offered his help countless times to capture Kid!_

_Yeah, but he didn't have to say that, _reasoned her heart, which seemed to be much closer to her nerves and vocal chords.

Seeing that no one was speaking, she continued. "Just so you know, he's putting his job and freedom at risk, even as we speak, by defying the authorities! Last night, he was going to tranquilize Kid and stuff him into a sack!"

Something seemed to catch in Kaito's throat. He was suddenly coughing and gawking hysterically, but she decided to ignore it.

"Also, dad hasn't failed us! Not yet! We still have four days to go, and we could still do so much!"

"Like what? Do you have any suggestions?" Kogoro wasn't being sarcastic. He was dead serious when he asked this. His wife had a similar look of determination as her gaze zeroed in on the young girl.

"Well for starters, you could talk things out with the inspector and Kid," Kaito shrugged.

"Kid?" asked Eri.

"Yes. We suspect that he's helping the inspector with the case."

Several expressions flashed across Eri and Kogoro's faces. Confusion, worry, and shock. With jobs seeing black and white and leaning heavily on justice and law, Aoko was pretty sure that they'd react as badly as her to the knowledge of actually working with an international thief.

However, as if rethinking the situation and seeing – really seeing – the fact that this is _the_ Kaitou Kid helping them bring back their daughter, relief washed out all other emotions.

She knew, however, that interrogation would surely follow.

"Well then, _I'm_ going to to set a very important appointment now, so if you'll excuse me," Eri stood up and dusted her pencil skirt.

Just before she could turn to her heels and walk to the table, however, the door creaked, and they heard the patter of footsteps dance around the doorway.

"Uncle, what's going on? It's so loud!"

"Conan!"

Kaito suddenly went very still – his muscles and ligaments all radiating palpable tension. Aoko looked over the couch and saw that the person standing by the doorway was a small little boy.

"He's so cute," she mused, scanning the child and completely ignoring Kaito, who was softly spitting out a long stream of curses under his breath for some odd reason.

"Ah, sorry about that, Conan-kun. You don't have to worry. Go to the professor's if you'd like. We're going to be pretty busy," Eri said.

"Yeah! We finally found a lead to Ran and we don't want you ruining anything!"

"R-Ran-neechan?" the boy yelped, expressions shifting from giddy childlike innocence to serious, calculating shock. "Where did you hear this from? What are the leads?"

"It's none of your business! You're just a brat!"

"Dear!" Eri scolded from across the room, hand already tightly wrapped around the telephone. "He's just as worried about her as we are!" Then she turned to Conan, eyes softening a reasonable amount. "However, this is something that you can leave to us. Don't worry about it. That mustached old man and I will fix this."

"M-mustached old man?"

"Was Ran-neechan kidnpped?" Conan suddenly asked, tilting his head towards the two teenagers sitting on the couch. "Did they tell you that she was kidnapped?"

Eri pursed her lips and stared the boy. Despite his age, she knew that Conan was exceptionally bright. She also knew that hiding anything from him could really only lead to trouble.

Walking across the room, she ignored her husband's glares, knelt in front of the child and gripped his shoulders. "Conan-kun, listen. It is very important that you don't tell _anyone_ about this."

"I won't," he quipped. Then he pointed childishly at the two teenagers. "So who are they?"

"I can't believe that they're letting him stay. This is a serious matter," Kaito smoothly muttered under his breath. Being one of the privileged few who knew him very well, however, Aoko was able to perceive a touch of nervousness coloring his tone. "Little kids shouldn't be snooping around. Aoko, you tell 'em. Make them kick him out. Please?"

"What? No!" she hissed back. "He really won't do much damage!"

"Unless he tells anyone, Ahoko! Kids are kids! He'll want to tell all his friends about something this juicy!"

"You're the kid! If you want him out so bad, _you_ talk to them!"

"I'm going home."

Aoko stared, mouth hanging open. Then, _"What?"_

Kaito gave Conan a pointed look. "Let's go home, Aoko. We're done here, aren't we? Your dad will get worried if he doesn't find you at home."

"My dad doesn't come home before eleven."

"Still, haven't you ever thought about the dangers of walking around exposed when the kidnappers who are originally after you still out there?"

"No," she whispered. "If they come after me, I'll run."

Kaito stared blankly at her. "i-d-i-o-t""

Aoko scoffed, stared, leaned in and glared straight into his soul. "I am _not_ an idiot!"

"Yes you are," he retorted mockingly. Like a child.

And like a child, his childhood friend was absolutely affected.

Aoko, just like her father, was not known for her patience. What little she had had worn off with the taunts. Pushed at the edge would be the signal of a mop chase. But seeing that there was no mop around, she resorted to her second instinct.

She snapped. "For Christ's sake, will you stop calling me a ****ing idiot you..." Curses began rolling off her tongue. She's very good at it. Creative too.

When she was done, the room was very silent. Even Kaito, wide-eyed and caught off-guard, didn't say anything.

Then they heard Eri clear her throat. "There's a child in here, you know?"

"Oh!" Aoko gasped, hastily turning to the small boy. "I am so sorry! Conan-kun, don't say any of that, okay?"

"No worries," replied the child, looking at her with a strange, distant look in his eyes. "Uncle's really no different."

Conan's eyes flickered from Aoko to Kaito, who had suddenly taken an interest in the blank, half-closed windows. She wasn't sure if it was just her but as he stood there, facing away from all of them, didn't he look a little robotically stiff?

"Niisan?" Conan hummed, craning his neck towards Kaito. The latter tilted his head towards them – slowly and barely revealing much of his face. Then Conan's face lit-up. "Ah! It's Shinichi-niisan!"

The teenager stiffened further, if that was even possible. Then, Kogoro stepped forward to bonk the child upside the head. "He's not that detective brat!" he groaned. "Stop assuming that there's two of them! Just one is enough!"

"But he is him," he whimpered, running a palm over his aching head. He allowed Eri to scold the man for him, and ran towards the two high-schoolers. Aoko was absolutely pleased to have him meet them. Kaito, however, although pleasantly calm on the outside, had his lips twisted grimly in absolute discomfort.

"Listen, little boy. I'm not that Shinichi guy you're talking about. I don't even know who he is," Kaito drawled, bending down to meet Conan's gaze. A flash of irritation crossed the child's eyes, but it was gone that same second.

"Really? But you look so much like him!" He smiled brightly. "In fact, if you styled your hair a bit and paraded as Shinichi-niisan in, say, a theatre, an airship, a helicopter, or even in this very office, no one would notice!"

By then, Kaito was sweating. "You've got a pretty wild imagination, kid!"

"Really?" Conan cheered. "My teacher says that that's a good thing!"

"It isn't," Kogoro grumbled, taking another swig of his beer. "This brat's imagination has gotten him into more trouble than I can count. Kidnapping, homicide, murder, robberies, you name it."

Aoko's hands immediately flew up to her mouth as she stared at Conan, wondering how such a small, helpless child bear go through all that. Then she notices, for the first time seriously, that he actually looked familiar.

Her mind racked through various newspaper articles that she's seen. TV programs that she's watched. Was he a child star? Or did the heinous crimes he got caught in squeeze him into the media?

"I also attended Kaitou Kid's heists," Conan added to the list, and Aoko's eyes widened. How could she forget? Her father has mentioned a certain little boy getting caught up in his case whenever Jirokichi Suzuki is involved!

Little Conan, the 'Kid Killer!'

"Ah! I know you! So you hate Kaitou Kid too?" She beamed, facing the child with a proud look on her face. Conan, in response, smiled back.

"Yes!"

"My dad is actually the inspector! One day, we're going to put him behind bars. When you're older, you should join the Task Force and help him out!"

"I could! I could!" Conan jumped, causing Kogoro to roll his eyes and Eri to chuckle.

_At least_, Aoko thought, _they're looking better. _

"Make up your mind, kid! Did you want to be a detective or a member of the Interpol?" Kogoro snapped.

"I don't need to worry about it yet! I'm just a kid!"

Kaito snorted beside her, and this time, Aoko decided that she wasn't going to ignore it. She turned to him. "Kaito, what is wrong with you? You've been all stiff and quiet since Conan-kun came in."

"Have I?" he whispered back. "Maybe it's because I'm afraid your dad would beat me up if I take you home late."

"Oh, you know he wouldn't do that. He likes you!"

"Unless I take you home late."

"Oh, niisan, are you going to help me save Ran-neechan?" Conan suddenly asked, face resembling that of a kicked puppy's. "Won't you and neechan stay and give me the details?"

Kaito straightened up, and suddenly, it seemed like he was never anxious. "We'll do our best to help, but we can't stay after talking with them." He gestured to Kogoro and Eri. "Aoko's dad wouldn't want her getting home late!"

"Hn..." The child stared at them oddly. Calculatingly. Then, "Are you two dating?"

_"WHAT?"_ they bellowed. Aoko fell to her knees and grabbed Conan's shoulders.

"Listen, Conan-kun! _I_ would never date a wild, loco monkey like _him_!"

"As if _I'd_ date a violent, tomboyish ape like _you_!"

Eri clapped her hands. "That's enough."

Through the sharp, normalcy in her voice, Aoko suspected that she's used to banters similar to theirs.

Whose banters, though? Her daughter, Ran Mouri, and someone else with a personality as crazy as Kaito's?

As if reading her thoughts, Conan said, "Auntie used to do that a lot with Ran-neechan and Shinichi-niichan."

"Shinichi? Who is he?"

Conan, to her surprise, didn't look up smiling like she'd expected him to. Instead, he cast his gaze down, drawing at the dust through the tip of his shoes. "He's her...childhood friend. Her best friend."

Before she could say anything else, he snapped her gaze at her, an air of childlike wonder radiating off him. "Anyway, you look so much like Ran-neechan! What's your name?"

"Aoko Nakamori," she replied.

"I'm Conan Edogawa!"

He smiled for a second before turning to Kaito, head lowering ever so slightly. "What is your name?"

"My name," the young magician drawled, friendly smile revealing nothing, "is Kaito Kuroba. Let's get along!"


	6. Detective Magician

Detective. Magician.

Having the Detective figure out his civilian identity has crossed Kaito's mind several times, and in those instances, the deep pool of consequences has only made itself apparent.

Now don't get me wrong. Kaito knows that the Detective has a soft, mushy heart. He's seen him blabber and flush and prance around in Ran's presence. However, he's also seen him knock out a couple of criminals. The magician knows that the Detective's sense of justice is strong; heck, he had the nerves to face some criminals nasty enough to blow someone up in a certain Bell Tree Express. However, he also _knows_ that the Detective could kick _very _hard, especially when mad.

Well Kaitou Kid has taunted him about Ran's underwear. He made him run around in circles, even used his face without permission a couple of times. _And_ he almost kissed his rival's special friend that one moonlit evening.

So while Kuroba Kaito sat there, Edogawa Conan standing right in front of him with an allegedly innocent smile on his bespectacled face, all the former could think of was: _Crap!_

_Crap! Crap! Crap! I am so busted! Crap!_

"Well," Kaito drawled, leaning back on the couch, poker face being stretched to the extreme. "Don't you have any homework, little boy?"

"Oh, I've finished it long ago!" Conan smiled, shaking his head slightly.

The young magician snuck a glance at Aoko. She was busy speaking with the Mouri girl's parents. He can't really use her as an excuse to leave his alter ego's rival unless..._unless_ he was willing to degrade their image of him by seeming a little rude. He quickly racked through the pros and cons of butting in, and finally concluded that he was going to interrupt.

Hm. It might be good. Kuroba Kaito's denseness, contrary to Kid' slick manners, might even drop the pint-sized private eye's suspicions.

"Ahoko!" he called out, standing up to bolt towards his childhood friend. But then something held him back.

The mini Detective grabbed his fingers before he could leave, looking at it with feigned childlike wonder. "Your fingers are so long, niichan."

Aoko, Kogoro and Eri, all looking mildly irritated at having been interrupted, darted their attention back to each other and pushed through with the conversation.

And by then, Kaito was internally shivering. Suddenly he was on full-guard – carefully aware of his breathing patterns and posture. He saw to it that he didn't reveal any hint of nervousness, but at the same time avoiding Kid's usual suave nonchalance. He kept an eye out on his fingers, which were being held near the faux child's face, and made sure that they looked relaxed.

"They're _really_ long long and thin!" Conan looked up at Kaito, head tilting ever so slightly. "Why is that?"

"Because I was born with it," he replied.

Inside, he was cursing. The Detective is on to him, he's sure. And he was using an effective form of interrogation – sweet and slow, like honey, and then painfully sharp once the target lets his guard down.

Well the magician saw to it that he never let his guard down, and he could tell that it was getting on his rival's nerves.

He paid attention to his newly-released fingers – lazily interlocked behind his head.

"Wow! You're lucky! I heard from the telly that fingers like yours are good for playing the piano!"

"Oh really? Well I don't play any of that, sadly."

The Detective made a show of looking disappointed, although being a master of masks himself, Kaito easily saw through it. There was a glint in his eyes – a glint that says that his clever little mind was stringing things together. _Detective_, he thought,_ is on to something._

The blow came half a second later.

"What about magic?"

"What about it?"

"Do you do magic?"

Kaito's mind was suddenly working fast. _I can't lie,_ he thought. _Otherwise I'll only seem more suspicious. _He can't be too impressive either. And he can't be dull. Kuroba Kaito is supposedly an amateur magician, but he is not dull.

Straightening up, he said in a loud, annoyingly conceited tone, "Yes I do magic! There is _no one_ in this world who can defeat me! _Heh heh heh_!"

"Bakaito!" Aoko yelled from across the room.

The boy smiled, fully expecting this.

"You're always too full of yourself! You're really not _that_ great!"

"Yeah I am!" He childishly stuck his tongue out. Eri was making small circular motions around her temples, while her husband roughly slammed a fist onto the tabletop.

"Do you wanna get out, _brat_?"

"Ah, no," he said meekly. The three resumed the talk, and that was the end of it.

But something told him that the shrunken private investigator wasn't quite done with him yet. There was a pause. A pause that took longer than he anticipated. Aoko's and the couple's voices have become buzzing hums in the background, and for a moment, it _did_ seem like the sleuth was going to drop the subject.

If there's one thing he knew about Kudo Shinichi, though, it's that he never let's a suspect off so easy. If he was going to drop the bomb, he was going to drop it now. Yet even as he thought this, Kaito realized later that all the knowledge and mental preparation that the world could offer wasn't enough to prepare him for the boldness of the Detective's next move.

"Say, are you Kaitou Kid?"

There was silence, filled with paling and numbing. And in the split second that the poker face faltered, Conan's eyes flashed, and Kaito knew that any leeways had been burnt. This was a dead end. He was busted. The Detective had set up an elaborate blackmail, _goddamn him to hell_.

Still, despite the hopeless situation, he found himself clinging to that last thread of hope. Kaito did what Kaitou Kid did best. "What? Of course not! What would make you think that?"

_He lied._

"Well I just think you are," the child shrugged. "And I think it's cool! I'm gonna tell everyone!"

He had no solid proof, and he was merely using the situation to his advantage. After all, these threats are empty shells when hurled at an ordinary magician; nothing more than the silly result of a seven-year-old's wild imagination.

An ordinary magician wouldn't know the extent of Edogawa Conan's intelligence. He wouldn't know about what he can do to someone he deems a suspect.

But Kaitou Kid will know. And Kaitou Kid is freaking out.

"Alele? Hey, Aoko-neechan! I just found out something that you might want to listen to – " Kaito briskly covered the child's mouth.

"No, Conan-kun," he said sharply. "That is a bad word. You don't say that, okay?"

"Will the two of you_ shut up_?" Kogoro suddenly bellowed, his patience lost completely as he stood up to glare at the two boys. Aoko was behind him, looking just as mad.

"Good heavens, Kaito! What are you teaching a _child_?"

Eri's temple-massage clearly wasn't working. She reverted to pinching the bridge of her nose, obviously trying to keep calm. The young magician released his grip on the faux child's mouth and stood back up, sensing that the Detective wasn't going to spill.

_Yet_.

Then, he scurried towards the door.

"Whoa, Conan-kun. Let's go! Let's go! Before they eat us alive!"

"Ah! Scary! Wait for me, Kaito-niichan!"

Once the Great Detective had tottered over to his side like some kind of innocent being, Kaito allowed a silly smile to dash across his face. He directed a waving motion towards Aoko and, before any of the three could react, closed the door and dropped the smile.

* * *

The staircase was still dull, but brighter that it had been earlier. A fluorescent lamp hovered overhead, it's hum loud against the silence. Kuroba stared blankly at the wall in front of him, satchel sprawled across the ground, and fingers hanging loosely at his sides like dead things.

It was Conan who broke the silence. "You have good acting skills, I could tell you that."

The magician smirked, sharp teeth glinting underneath up-twisted lips. "Can't say that I can commend you in return. Blackmail is a pretty nasty trick, Detective."

"I was a bit pressed," he replied, repressing shock at the other's sudden shift in tone. He watched the magician shift his weight, not in discomfort, but rather to pull the school bag up his shoulder. Then Conan cast hist gaze at the plain walls ahead, lazily crossing his arms across his chest. "I'll be honest. I didn't actually think you'll just waltz into the agency with the risk of getting caught. Mistakes like that aren't like you, Kaitou Kid."

"What if I said that I'm just borrowing Kuroba Kaito's face for today?"

"That's impossible. You blushed when I asked you about your relationship with that Nakamori girl."

"Oh?" Kid said, looking like nothing in this world could ever faze him – "_Aoko_. It's because of her that I am standing in your delightful company now" – however, judging by the way that the thief said her name above everything else that rolled of his tongue, he deduced that she was someone who could push the thief's buttons; probably has already done it several times, if the banters he had witnessed earlier was anything to go by.

For just that moment, Conan wondered if he was seeing, really seeing, the Magician Under the Moonlight for who he really is – a teenage boy, just like himself, with a certain fondness for his childhood friend.

After all, it was strange to see Kid use a girl's first name so casually without a disguise. Around all women, he was slick mannerisms and flattery. Around this one Nakamori Aoko, you wouldn't think that he was anything more than the prankster he appeared to be.

"To think that you'd be weak against the Inspector's daughter," the Detective murmured, grinning at the irony.

"No, I am not weak against her," Kid replied in his usual nonchalance. "A little wary, maybe, but that's because she is the Inspector's daughter."

A thought suddenly occurred to Conan, and he turned to the thief. "Why are you here anyway?"

"To get Mouri Kogoro's help, of course." Kid said, leaning down before Conan could protest, "I agree with Aoko on one thing. Those two deserve to know where their daughter is."

On a normal day, the shrunken sleuth would've objected. But he's seen how serious the _ojisan_ had been. He's seen how absolutely terrified and _broken_ he and the lawyer were when they needed to file the case on a missing person.

It was more of a gut feeling, and his gut feelings were usually right – the man who was the father of his childhood friend will find a way to help bring her back.

"So, Detective," Kid drawled, the slightest touch of urgency coloring his tone. Urgency that he saw in himself – one that he'd been hiding behind his own childish poker face for three days. "How's the research going?"

"Not so great," he spit out the words – like venom – hanging onto cold air. He called the police headquarters, searched the net, asked Haibara, the professor, even Hattori, and still found nothing that could be called a practical clue.

The thief suddenly lifted his satchel and gave Conan his usual, all-knowing smile. "Well, you asked for leads, didn't you?"

A wave of relief suddenly washed over the Detective, successfully churning his insides. "Is it complete?" he asked.

"Complete," Kid whispered, "and…strange."

* * *

Author's note:

Wow. Okay. This took awhile to make! I edited this about...three times! Because basically, nothing much was happening, so I decided to kind of just use the opportunity to clarify how Kaito and Shinichi viewed one other.

Anyway, I kinda got the plot set up now. I think. Ooh, and I'm reading lots of DC crossovers. And there's a freakin' Danny Phantom and Nancy Drew in there! My childhoods combined! Woohoo!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and the ones that will surely come in the near-future!

Yes, even if my ultimate goal is to ruin brains with (in my opinion) insanely long chapters, which are coupled with long-ish ramblings which is this author's note. Haha, see you!


	7. Reports

Reports

Kid briskly ran his thumb across the thick stack of files – the soft sound of papers slapping against each other loud against the silence – before spreading them across the floor in one swift motion. Even after the removal of the files, his satchel is still bulging with god knows what kind of tricks and traps. The pile, however, were genuine police copies.

"How did you get these?" Conan asked, but the thief didn't answer. Kid diverted himself away from the question, instead stating, "These are police reports about my heists and cases that involve me. We should find something in there. My assistant told me that the Inspector was looking deeply troubled when he placed it on the rooftop for me to find."

Conan dropped the question and began to scan through the files – relief at the sight of actual leads nibbling at him, underneath the underlining stress that came with the extremely large pool of suspects. He knew that he couldn't afford to miss a clue. _Even just one._ Because gods, that could cost Ran her life, and he can't have that.

Never.

…

…

April 1 XXXX – Attempted theft Black Star

April X XXXX – Theft of Black Star

…

…

September 12 XXXX – Theft Givenchy Necklace

…

…

October 26 XXXX – Theft Silver Crow

…

November 4 XXXX – Attempted theft Falcon Earring

November 5 XXXX – Theft Falcon Earring

…

December 23 XXXX – Theft of Red Child

…

…

June 2 XXXX – Attempted theft of Alexandria

…

…

In front of him, the aforementioned criminal was sitting – splayed in an uncharacteristic, un-Kaitou-Kid-like slouch. The only trait pointing to the alter ego within the teen were the sharp, indigo eyes swiftly scanning through and analyzing the documents; indigo eyes, Conan realized, that resembled his own. "Hey, aren't these a little strange?"

"So you noticed it too?" Kid replied flatly.

"None of the reports here mentioned the attempts on your life, which is big news."

"It's not just that." Kid leaned forward, papers rustling against the strumming beats of raindrops as he handed some of the reports he'd been scanning through to Conan. "They've been manipulated. There were snipers that left quite a mess during the Givenchy Necklace, the Falcon Earring and the Alexandria heists. They fired from the windows. Sometimes walls. They fired from distant buildings, and the squad knew this. Inspector Nakamori knew this. But if you read these – " he paused.

Conan took the papers from the Kid and leafed through it.

* * *

_Case Number: 0286__  
_Date: 12 September XXXX_  
_Reporting Officer: Officer Takawara_  
_Incident: Theft_  
_Weapons/ Objects Used: Gas masks, bullet-proof vests, helicopters, spotlights, police cars, glass safe, security laser system__

_On September 11, XXXX, at approximately 17:10, kaitou 1412 sent a notice to the HQ (via delivery man) addressed to Inspector Nakamori, saying that he will steal the Givenchy Necklace from the Beika Museum on September 12, XXXX, at exactly 20:30_

…

_At exactly__20:29, the entire floor was engulfed in sleeping gas_

…

_Several bullets were fired from the vent, damaging several museum properties, just before kaitou 1412 descended into the crime scene from the source of the attack. Squad members Ogino, Tadano and Yamamoto were grazed at the arm, forehead and shin. The weapon used to fire could possibly be a machine gun, judging by the amount of bullets fired at the given amount of time._

…

_Kaitou 1412 left with the Givenchy Necklace at approximately__21:10._

* * *

_Case Number: 0295__  
_Date: 5 November XXXX_  
_Reporting Officer: Officer Yamamoto_  
_Incident: Theft and assault_  
_Weapons/ Objects Used: Bullet-proof vests, helicopters, police cars, giant electric fan, falling prison bars,__

…

_Kaitou 1412 appeared from a puff of smoke on top of the Falcon Earring's glass case_

…

_After firing the machine gun around the room, kaitou 1412 left through the door while the officers were still in a state of shock._

* * *

_Case Number: 0301_

_Date: 2 June XXXX__  
_Reporting Officer: Officer Suzuki_  
_Incident: Theft_  
_Weapons/ Objects Used: Bullet-proof vests, helmets, Helicopters, gas masks, tranquilizer gun, glass safe__

_On June 2, XXXX, at approximately__6:00, kaitou 1412 sent his notice through__Tokyo__TV._

…

_At exactly__17:30__kaitou 1412 appeared on top of the glass case with__Alexandria__already in his possession. The glass window suddenly broke, and an unidentified Squad Member informed everyone that the criminal has already escaped through the broken window via hang glider._

…

_The person on the hang glider which the Task Force has been following turned out to be a dummy ._

…

_A .50 caliber rifle cartridge was found on the floor near the glass case of__Alexandria. Forensics concluded that this was used by kaitou 1412 to open the glass case earlier that day. Whether it was fired by an assistant or by the criminal himself is unknown._

* * *

"Something is going on here."

"Really, detective?"

"This is either a completely different case, or absolutely related to Ran's kidnapping. If it is related, then we can conclude that we're not dealing with a couple of noobs." Conan's voice sounded cold and distant, even to his own ears. He hated the bittersweet aftertaste it left in his mouth – hated it almost as much as he hated the message behind his words.

_They're not dealing with noobs_. They're dealing with professionals. Someone that could tamper with goddamn police reports. Someone in the higher-ups. Someone…that could be _them._

"We should look into the officers who made these reports. Takawara, Yamamoto and Suzuki. Possibly more – I'm sure that these aren't the only reports that have been manipulated," he said in a soft breath, vaguely aware that the brisk wind outside their window has grown strong enough to muffle his own voice. But Kid was a lot of things – perceptive being one of them. The thief could pick up the most subtle of sounds; those that didn't want to be noticed. That is why he easily understood what the detective had said.

"You do your research," Kid replied, standing up. "I'll do my own. I'll pass by tomorrow morning to compile what we've gathered."

"Can I have your number?"

Kid paused for a second, shoulders visibly tensing beneath the thick material of his school uniform. Conan rolled his eyes, feeling the patience dissipate. "I need to have some way to contact you just in case I figure something out. Isn't that right, Kuroba Kaito?" The unsaid statement hung in the air: _Iknowwhoyouarealreadyit'snotlikeitwillmakeadifference._

"Fine," the word rolled off Kid's tongue with its usual nonchalance. "But my contact name there'd better be Kaito-niichan."

"No way."

"Yes. Way." Kid was smiling like a cat. "If Kudou Shinichi is ever found out, they're going to investigate everyone you're acquainted with – including those in your contacts. I don't want to be caught in the loop."

"It's not going to make a difference!" he hissed.

"Yes it will. Everyone in Conan's phone is addressed with either neechan or niichan after their names. 'Kid that bastard' is going to raise some brows, don't 'cha think, detective-kun?"

"How'd you know that everyone in my contacts have –"

"Here."

Conan stared at the thief, his mouth hanging open, as the aforementioned criminal handed him back his phone. And then – "Stop stealing my stuff without my permission, goddamn it!"

"It's not stealing if I'm going to return it."

"I'm not even going to argue about this pointless thing anymore," he sighed, getting tired of Kid's usual flippancy. Talking with him was like skating with fish for shoes – very shaky, constantly shifting.

"Well," Kid eventually drawled, standing up. "I'm going to have a word with the Inspector about this. It wouldn't hurt to be more cautious with those he is working with, especially since they most probably saw Aoko today."

The detective froze, a panicked breath hitching in his throat. "Saw her, you say?" he all but screamed. "Kid, what the _hell_ were you –"

"Calm down!" Kid's expression was a mixture of amusement, shock and smugness. "I've got it all under control."

The rain was beating harder now, and the thief's face was very calm. Down below, he could hear Mouri's voice bellowing curses in his tobacco-plastered voice. If he didn't know the impact of Ran's disappearance on him was, he would've thought that he has regained his usual vigor. Sadly, he knew better than that. He knew that the Uncle's voice was never that raspy. Ran was always there to hold him back, and although his wife was doing a pretty good job at doing just that then, it doesn't reverse the effects of the smoke in his body before she came over.

Nakamori-san was whispering something that he couldn't make out. Her voice was soft, almost sweet and child-like. He briefly wondered how demonic it could get if he revealed to her Kid's identity then and there just because the thief was being an annoying, unpredictable little prick.

But that'd be bad for him. Kid knew about him – Shinichi. And as much as he was tempted to spat a budding stream of curses into the international criminal's face, Kaitou Kid was still smiling; that meant that things really were under control.

"What do you plan to do about it?" he asked instead.

"It's not something you need to worry about."

The thief turned to his heels, hand about an inch from the doorknob when Conan added "tell him to let his daughter stay here."

"What?"

"I doubt that you didn't consider the dangers of taking her home. If there really are spies in the police, and if they did see her, wouldn't they be on the move to get to her?"

Kid's put his hands in his pockets, and he turned to Conan, eyes glaring. "Yes…" he started, voice hissing dangerously low. "_Yes._I considered that, and I wasn't planning to take her to her house."

"So wherever you were planning to take her…is it safer than here?"

Indigo eyes narrowed, fixing Conan with an intense, calculating gaze. "In what sense?"

"The heck are you blabbering about?"

"Detective, try to look at this in my perspective. My childhood friend, who happens to look like your girlfriend is sleeping under the same roof with a perverted teenage boy shrunk to look like an innocent baby."

He never exactly figured out how the Kid knows who he really is, but he supposed that it wasn't that big of a mystery. One boy disappears, another one appears packed with the same interests and the same intellect despite his physical age. He shouldn't be surprised if the thief has managed to hack into his files, only to realize that the little boy, Edogawa Conan, was never born.

"Baby?" he groaned

"You look it."

"And perverted? Really, Kid? I'm not the guy who goes around town dressed in women's clothing!"

"Must I remind you that that is a part of my job?" There was the usual levity tinting his voice, but underneath it all, Conan could sense a darker, more skeptical and edgy tone. A beat of silence passed. Then, with a more accusing face, "Don't act like you've never seen Mouri-san naked because of your child-like appearance."

The blush was all the thief needed to have his statement confirmed. "Gotcha."

"T-that wasn't my choice!" Conan stammered. "And at least I don't flip women's skirts up with card guns, all the while parading as this _gentleman_ thief!"

Kid's face instantly turned blank, eyes turning cold for some odd reason. The pint-sized private eye couldn't help but wonder why that statement earned him such an ire, hateful look. Last time Kid attempted to flip Ran's skirt up as Officer Takagi, didn't he get away?

He wanted to ask what was up with that, but he realized that there was a bigger issue here brought about by the vanity of Kaitou Kid, and it needed to be resolved.

"Listen," he sighed, honestly amused by how much of a teen the world-renowned Phantom Thief actually was, "if you have another way of keeping Nakamori-san safe, then by all means, do so."

"No, this is much safer than the place I had in mind." Kid decided to drop his poker face, though Conan wasn't exactly sure how much he'd allowed it to drop. Thing was, he could actually see the kaitou's wariness and discomfort, and that in itself was a big crack in the mask. "I'm going. Watch over her, detective."

What little light-heartedness Kid had going around his last quip was quickly overshadowed by the dripping serious undertone, and Conan couldn't fight back a smile.

"Of course."

* * *

Kaito was too driven by the new findings that he forgot to tell Aoko about his early leave. Still, he supposed that it was for the best. Granted, he'll be labelled a jerk, but it saves him the effort of coming up with a reason to leave her behind. She'll follow him, he's sure, and who was Kuroba Kaito to deny her the privilege? Who was Kuroba Kaito to know in advance that Aoko was going to stay in Detective Mouri's agency until this whole mess was over?

Kuroba Kaito was supposed to know only as much as she did, so he donned a disguise and left the office as Kaitou Kid.

He stepped into the sidewalk and walked left – the soles of his shoes wet because of puddles. He's glad that the rain has dissipated into a soft, tolerable drizzle, though. It was a good night to use his hang glider.

He rounded the corner into a dim street, the roads hardly lit by surrounding streetlights. The trees around him cast long, twisting shadows in the asphalt; the branches and leaves giving it an eerie, sinister feel in the uneven lighting. Far into the distance, Kid catches a twinkle of glass right across a twenty-four hour convenience store. Smiling, face shadowed by his black cap, he walked towards it.

It was a quiet night brought about by the aftermath of the rain: no rustle of trees or chirps of crickets – just the distant traffic, too vague to register consciously.

The door of the phone booth swings loudly behind him as he closes it. Then, he reaches for the phone to make his call.

Nakamori picks up on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Inspector," he greeted in Kid's usual tone.

There was a pause from the other line – a quiet intake of breath – and Kid is grinning from ear to ear. "It's me."

"Yeah, I figured out that much! You're the only guy with such a cocky voice I know!"

Kid decides to ignore his usual statements and racks his brain for a place that shouldn't raise brows should the Inspector go there at that time of the night. A place that wasn't his house.

"The rooftop of Metropolitan Police Headquarters. Fifteen minutes," he says.

"Did you figure something out?" Nakamori asks, suddenly sombre.

"Yes."

And he puts the phone down.

The Inspector sounded on edge and absolutely tired. He needed to keep the conversation short and direct, should Nakamori's phone be bugged. Still, despite it all, the moment that Kaitou Kid hung up, Kuroba Kaito shuddered in panic. After all, despite it all, he was still a _kid. _And no matter how much it hurt, Nakamori is the man he considered a dad right after his own.

And Nakamori isn't exactly known for his patience.

* * *

The Police Headquarters isn't a prominent building in Tokyo. It is merely a speck of dust in the constellation of infrastructure all over Tokyo, so Kid uses landmarks such as Tropical Land and the Touto Tower to maneuver his way across the city.

The thick material of his school uniform rustles loudly as he slices through the still night air, and Kid looks down. It's a relatively starless night because of the fog, so the city lights shine brighter than usual from his vantage point. Good.

He easily spots a dim corner just about a block away from the Metropolitan Police Headquarters, and he immediately identifies it as an old, abandoned house. Knowing better than to land on police territory as Kid, he lands on its patio – folding the hang glider at his back as an extra precaution just in case he needs to make a quick getaway.

After getting on a bus to make his travel faster, he realized just how tired he was. His knees were aching – a grim reminder of his mistake.

The mistake was letting Aoko out of his sight, thus, ending with her in the Police Headquarters for all the spies to see. The ache in the knee – he got from chasing after her right after that, making sure that no strange men were following her. _Stalking_ her. And goddamn, they're lucky they weren't because Kaito had been ready to pull the biggest prank of the century.

The bus rounded a corner, and Kid could see the Headquarters coming into view. After getting off, he entered the building as Kuroba Kaito because the boy's presence there wouldn't raise any brows. He went to the bathroom and slapped on a disguise: a uniform and some face putty – just enough to make a face that wasn't his own. It was a little older. A little darker.

And he strolled into the halls as a common janitor.

* * *

The rooftop was cold that evening – the slick wind licking Kid's face when he carefully opened the stairwell door.

Nakamori was already there, leaning against the fences, a dark silhouette in the starless night. Kid couldn't exactly tell if the man was facing him or the other side, but judging by the angle and the fact that he didn't freak upon his entrance, he could safely assume that he was facing away.

He leaned against the wall, form automatically lithe and nonchalant.

"Good evening, Inspector."

Nakamori whirled around so fast that he almost tripped, and the thief watched, eyes cat-like.

"Kid," he hissed

"I must say," he said, "it's flattering how you're always on time."

"Enough talk! So what information have you got?" Nakamori was making his way towards him, and Kid automatically reaches for the hang glider switch beneath his jumper – all the while maintaining his air of theatricality.

Then the man froze, as if taking into account for the first time, really, the shrinking gap between him and the goddamn Kid; _Kid_ who could walk on air, disappear into nothing, and was otherwise untouchable.

There's about an arm's distance between them, and the thief smiles – more out of habit than anything. "I read through the police reports, and I found some rather peculiar things."

He tries to maintain the levity in his voice. Tries very hard because he knows that if these cases are related, they're in trouble.

"The police reports are claiming that I fired those shots, even if the entire Task Force knew otherwise."

"Yeah, I noticed that too before dropping them off on the rooftop." There was a brief pause, and Nakamori cleared his throat. "Takawara, Suzuki, Yamamoto, Todano and Haizaki – the men who wrote those police reports – are among the best in the squad. And I was there when Takawara wrote his. We were going over the details of your heist together. What he wrote at the end wasn't anything like that."

"And the others?"

"I didn't see, but if someone altered Takawara's reports, then the same probably also happened to them."

Kid could see it plain as day that while the Inspector was trying to be detached, defending the squad was coming from the heart. Nakamori knew what the manipulated police reports meant. He knew that it meant that there were traitors among them.

And while Kid may not know how much the man cared for his men, Kaito did. And at that moment, all Kaito could do was stand back and allow the thief to take over this otherwise professional conversation with Uncle.

"Who do the reports go through?"

Nakamori paused for awhile, pondering.

"Some...rookies deliver them to the Superintendent, who files them accordingly before making somebody else compile them in a folder."

"Who has keys to these cabinets?"

"Superintendent Inoue, me, other inspectors from other divisions, some staff I presume?"

"I could investigate these people tomorrow," His lips curve into a smirk, "after I wreck havoc within the Headquarters – dressed up as your daughter, that is."

Kid couldn't help it.

Nakamori froze. And stared. Then, _"What?"_

"I'm sure that you're aware that the squad saw her today. I wouldn't put it past criminals of their caliber to start hunting for her now that they know she's safe."

Nakamori had gone pale. Kid can see that with the small tinge of stray city lights drifting over his face. Then – "_Shit_! Holy shit! _Aoko_ – she's – I've gotta –"

"She'll be fine," Kid snapped in a more serious tone. It worked, because the Inspector stopped fumbling for his phone and turned to look at the thief. "She's staying with Detective Mouri for the week."

But the statement only served to add fuel to the fire. "_What_? Why am I just hearing about this now? Why the _hell_ didn't I know this?"

"It was a recent decision, Inspector. I'm sure you'll get the call about the details later. Just know that she's safer there."

With a bodyguard as sharp, quick-witted and (aherm) vertically-challenged as the one she had then, she should be fine.

There was an unaccounted pause, and Kid catches a glint in Nakamori's eyes that tells him he's watching him. Analyzing. Reading like some antique book written in Latin. And Kid may be smart, but he's no mind-reader. He doesn't know what went through the Inspector's mind because next thing he knew, the man had visibly relaxed – shoulders dropping, form unfreezing.

"Okay," he whispers, voice as soft as snowflake. "So? What's this about dressing up as my daughter?"

Kid tells him about his plans, locking out all emotion and mirth as he goes about the details. He says it professionally – quick and clean as old bones. Then when he's done, he feels strange – strange because he is a criminal instructing a police inspector in a voice and a face that wasn't his own. And with only the glider underneath his attire, there is a very thin line between Kid and Kaito.

He feels strange because he is talking about Aoko while he is Kid, pretending that she is a stranger to him; pretending that he doesn't know what the color of panties are.

"So you think you can pull it off?" he asks.

Nakamori doesn't even pause to think. "Of course!"

He hears footsteps padding towards them from within the stairwell, so he straightens up and tips his cap politely, sharp teeth at the corner of his mouth glinting beneath up-twisted lips.

"Then I must take my leave. I'll be seeing you tomorrow, Inspector."

Nakamori doesn't even have time to respond because the stairwell door flies open, and a Squad Member (_Mashiro_. Kid identifies him) steps into the rooftop.

"Inspector, there's a case downtown."

Kid slips into the door. He covers himself in a black cloak – form easily mingling with the shadows. Then before either Nakamori or Mashiro could have the chance to see him, he _leaps_ quietly down the steps.

* * *

Author's note:

Okay, this chapter took _really_ long to make! Yes, I actually researched about the format of police reports, and I tried to find the date of Kid's canon heists but they were _hard_ I tell ya!

I'm working a bit more on the flow of this story, so I might not get to update as frequently as before. Real life is a big distraction, y'see! It's not my fault!

Haha, anyway, I hope you enjoyed this.


	8. Second Hostage

Second Hostage

Edogawa Conan is the one receiving comforts it was him who watched Ran's parents break down, and it was him who decided to team up with the Kid. However, behind the glasses and child-like facade, it was Kudo Shinichi's heart that clenched and twisted.

Ran's horrified screams bounced across his head, the copper scent of blood filling his nostrils, the vivid image of dull eyes and cold skin under his own shaky hand tingling his spine. About a thousand horrific scenarios played in his mind, driving him into a hazy state of panic. The only thing that pulls him back to reality is the sound of his voice – a keening whine.

Conan sits up in one brisk motion. He grinds his fists hard against his eyes and comes to himself, shaking his head and blinking his eyes. _Calm down, damn it__,_ he thinks, even if he knows that he wouldn't be able to until he's sure Ran is safe. Speaking through facts, however, he knows that she should be safe because the success of the bastard's plan relies heavily on the treatment of the hostage.

Still, the imagination is a wild, powerful thing – all the more so for a mind as clever as his. It puts aside the facts and logic he has trained himself over the years never to overlook. It paints horrifying pictures in the theatre of his mind – pictures of Ran screaming, clothes violently ripped out of her. It paints pictures of Ran bleeding, of Ran cold...

Of Ran dead.

It is only when his jaw begins to hurt that he realizes he's been grinding his teeth very hard, so he shakes his head again and stands up. He then notices that his pajamas are wet with sweat, and that his limbs feel numb.

He's shivering, and he has never felt more like the sever year-old he poses as.

Slipping on his slippers, he walks to the bathroom with every intent of washing his face. The water should jerk him awake. Then maybe he could be himself again, thinking with the speed he should have.

Then surely, along with the regained sharpness and determination comes a greater chance of saving Ran...right?

* * *

Kaito knew that it was going to be a bad day the moment he woke up. School started at seven-thirty, and if he wanted to trick the inspector and Aoko into thinking that he wasn't cutting any class when he came to visit, he needed to be very early. But his alarm didn't go off, and he was up late last night researching about the officers who wrote the police reports. It was thanks to that he realized that there was nothing _fishy _about them.

Then on his way home, his hang glider caught a strong wind, looping him across the sky. He managed to land safely – but on an aquarium, of all things! It's been a long night.

So needless to say, despite his punctuality and sharpness, he didn't wake up until it was seven – a thin streak of drool adorning his right cheek. He still needed to visit Aoko since he promised to pick something up for her last night, and then meet the inspector right after to deliver whatever it was she wanted to give him.

He quickly sprinted to the restroom to splash water across his face. Then he tumbled down the staircase, stubbed his toe on the doorframe, banged his knee against the low glass living room table and tripped over air on his way to the sidewalk. He barely managed to catch the bus to Beika, but he's glad he did.

Aoko was already at the base of the steps of Detective Mouri's agency when he got there, body partly hidden by the walls as she stood there, narrowed eyes scanning through him.

"Kaito," she said simply, tone flat and cold as stood over him with crossed arms, staring down at him as he stopped to catch his breath. "What the heck did you leave me last night for?"

He tensed, easy smile frozen in his face. Then, "Ah, but it was for the best, wasn't it? The kid with glasses told me you'll stay here until the case was over anyway!"

She gave him a skeptical look. "But you only found out about that _after_ you left! How could you have known?" Her eyes softened, gaze growing distant and scared. "Dad told me that the criminal might know about the hostage switch. If I went home alone last night, then maybe right now, I wouldn't be here."

She was too busy looking down, so she didn't notice Kaito stare up at her with a strange look in his eyes. And then, "I wasn't going to leave you, Aoko, so stop moping," he lied, playing up the light-hearted exasperation in his tone. "I went to get something from the convenience store, and then I got a call from the kid saying that I didn't have to come back."

She stared up at him. "You exchange numbers with children now? Since when?"

"Since yesterday. The kid was actually pretty cool, and it wouldn't hurt to give him my number." _That was_ a _lie._ A horrible, _horrible_ lie.

And Aoko must've seen the annoyed look in his face because a corner of her lip tugged up, letting him know that she knew. He was sure, however, that whatever theory she came up with regarding how Conan managed to get his number was far from true. He also realized that she's dropped the topic. He managed to paint a false scenario in her mind. He managed to trick her – smart as she may be. She was far from gullible, he knew that, but she also trusted him so much. That knowledge alone scared even him because he knew that he didn't deserve that trust.

And if she found out the truth about him, she was going to hate him even more than she already hated the Kid.

Her gaze dropped to his form, and once again, her sharp eyes ran over him in critical appraisal. "Your uniform's crumpled," she pointed out, wiggling a finger at his untidy attire.

Kaito blinked out of his daze and looked down at his clothes. He forgot to change.

A bundle of giggling school girls walked past them as Kaito attempted to straighten up the cloth.

"And your hair is messier than normal," she added. He reached for his head, feeling the thick, wayward locks tangle around his fingers. He was too busy prying off his fingers to see her glance at her watch and widen her eyes. "You need to hurry or you'll be late! But give this to dad first. I doubt that he's taking good care of himself now."

She shoved something into his arms, and Kaito used that split second of close proximity to slip a small chip into the pocket of her shorts. She pushed him into the sidewalk, the box she gave him nestled tight in his arms. It was her father's lunch, wrapped in its usual handkerchief.

"Hey, stop pushing!"

"And start walking faster!"

He caught a glimpse of the pint-sized detective watching them from Mouri's office, just before Aoko all but hurled him into the bus stop.

In retrospect, it's amazing he didn't plough into the sign.

* * *

Nakamori's back was hunched tiredly over his desk, a pair of dark rims circling his eyes as he fumbled with the wires of his office landline. Beside him stood a pile of paperworks – possibly reports on the Kid, Kaito's trained eyes told him. Nakamori was still analyzing them, doing what he can to save the young girl even if all he really could do was wait for Kid. Oh, the irony. But what Kaito takes note of the most was the man's condition.

Aoko was right.

He was barely taking care of himself, and he felt irritation nibbling at him, underneath the stab of guilt when he realized that the only way Aoko could know about his condition at work is if she's actually seen him like that before.

How many draining nights has the inspector spent in pursuit of Kid, and how many nights has Aoko spent worrying about him? For all he knew, he could be turning into what the organization was to her – taking her father away, even while he's still alive.

Kaito needed to remind himself – not for the first time – about the Kid's purpose. And he needed to be Kid again later to save that blasted detective's girlfriend.

So he strolled into the office, a bright smile on his face. "Hi, inspector!"

Nakamori jumped in his seat before turning to him. "Kaito-kun? Shouldn't you be on your way to class?"

"Yeah, but Aoko asked me to give this to you." He put the bento on the table, and Nakamori stared at it for a moment – an array of emotions running across his face – before he glanced up to look at the young boy.

"You shouldn't have."

"I really don't mind," he said, smiling cheekily. "We weren't going to do a lot this morning, and Aoko was really worried about you."

"Well don't make it a habit, I hope," he replied, a slight smile lighting up his tired face. "You're a good kid. I wouldn't want you to start having problems in school."

"No worries there," Kaito beamed. "You should take better care of yourself, uncle."

He's glad that Nakamori at least managed a small smile before he left the room. However, that gladness quickly dissipated minutes later in a men's room cubicle, just as he was getting ready to don a mask of Aoko's face on his own.

Kaito has experienced putting on a disguise several times with someone else in the room, and it has never been a problem before. Thus, when the bathroom door swung open, he was unfazed. It was the occupant's next words that made him pause – a wig similar to Aoko's hair frozen between his fingers – before he dug for his phone to record the remnants of the one-sided conversation.

"–and you don't need to worry about the Kid...yeah...he'll take us to him...yes...I know what the hostage said. I know that she isn't Nakamori's daughter but...yes...he's working on it...yes, sir...okay, sir," and the man hung up.

The voice was a screechy soprano. But it was also smooth, with a certain edge that demanded utmost respect and poise. And Kaito _knew_ that voice. Has heard it several times, in fact, as Kid and as Kaito.

He was smiling like a cat. They've got a lead.

That man standing out there was definitely involved. And he knew about Aoko. _They _knew about Aoko. Thus, the plan he made with the Inspector – which was to go out there as Aoko and reveal himself as Kid, hence making the infiltrators in the police think that the one who came earlier wasn't really her – wouldn't really work. It'd be pointless. He needed to make do with what he had.

So he hovered his phone over the cubicle door and clicked, the camera phone making no sound as he took a picture of the culprit's face. He easily confirmed his identity before the man left – the plastic door banging loudly in his wake.

It was the current Superintendent, Inoue Hideki, who wasn't exactly prominent, but wasn't typical either. Aside from being the only Superintendent to permit shooting at the Kid months ago – a permission that was instantly dismissed due to public safety shortly after – he was a very cold man with a cynical, cruel sense of humor.

Half a minute passed before Kaito decided it was safe to come out. He packed the disguises in his satchel and was about to sling them over his shoulders, when instinct suddenly told him not to bring it, just to be safe. He hid it all in one of the cabinets underneath the sink.

Then he left the restroom, eyes boring into the culprit's face in his phone, when he suddenly heard a _clank. _There's no mistaking that metallic sound.

"Get back in," says Inoue's voice. Kaito would usually find a way to slip out of the situation – drop a pellet of sleeping gas; throw a smoke bomb and run in a moment of distraction; imitate other voices to lure the man away – but he does not get to.

He does not get to because cold metal is suddenly pressed against his temple, right before he is hurled back inside the bathroom by the collar, and dropped down to his knees – firm, steady hands gripping his thick hair.

The first thing Kaito was really aware of when Inoue clicked the door locked behind them was the sound of the vent positioned at a high corner of the bathroom. The more obvious sounds, such as the eventual footsteps of officers outside and the dripping water from a nearby sink, he was _aware_ of, but didn't exactly notice.

Years ago, his father taught him to take note of subtle noises – those that didn't want to be noticed – and the tip has helped him immensely when he donned the monocle and the cape.

"Your phone." Kaito paused, momentarily, and the barrel to his head nudged. Eyes narrowing, he gave his phone, knowing very well what that meant. The whooshing sound of a finger swiping his phone open sliced through the silence, and then there was an unaccounted pause.

Inoue was looking at the picture. And as the silence prolonged, the grip on his hair tightened; the gun pressed hard and cold against his temple, grazing violently at his skin, making him hiss beneath his breath.

After awhile, the voice came – harsher than it had been earlier. "Give me one reason I shouldn't kill you, kid."

Silence is suspicious, but so is confidence. Kaito gulped audibly, fighting for time with nervousness, which was honestly barely feigned. "I-I didn't know what I was doing!" he said, playing up the youthfulness in his tone; the stark fear. "I only know that someone's after Aoko! I wanted to help the inspector find the culprit!"

"Do you know where she is?"

"NO," he replied. "Uncle told me not to get involved. He said that it isn't safe." He decided that it was best to emphasize his close relationship with the inspector; make the superintendent realize that if they didn't have Nakamori's daughter, the next best option would be the boy next door.

"How do you know about this?" came the harsh reply.

The man was showing more brains than he'd wanted. Makes sense, though. He doubted that a grunt could infiltrate the Task Force and come out as its superintendent. Inoue was smart and cold – he knew that. If Kaito showed that he was a threat in any way, he wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger.

"I'm the one who answered the ransom call." It's the only answer he can give that wouldn't give away his capabilities.

There was an unaccounted pause, and Kaito realized that if he was going to make a decision, he was going to make it now.

He was right. He heard a rustle, and the very next second, something soft – like cloth – was pressed into his face, the vice-like grip on his thick hair tightening and twisting violently as he struggled.

The cloth contained chloroform, he thought, and he held his breath. But there was a reason Kid is slippery with his escapes. He's a magician – and a very young one at that – not a fighter. He was never any good at close combats. So needless to say, it wasn't any difficult for Inoue to pin him down.

It wasn't long before Kaito needed to take a gasp of breath – the sweet scent entering his system and numbing him.

Even if he's trained himself before to be immune to all kinds of sleeping agents, his body could really only take so much.

So against his will, he went limp; a still body hanging under the superintendent's hand.

* * *

Author's Note:

I never got to greet all you wonderful people, but better late than never, right? I know this chapter doesn't fit the merry vibes this season (what, with our beloved thief getting kidnapped and all) but MERRY CHRISTMAS! And a HAPPY, HAPPY NEW YEAR!


	9. Interlude: Inoue Hideki

Interlude: Inoue Hideki

Inoue Hideki is your typical grouch – a tall, lean man with sharp, grey eyes and a pointed nose. He's always strict; always clean. And although he isn't particularly handsome, he always looks presentable – lavishly dressed in dark blue suits, black hair neatly swiped back, Bally leather shoes always scott-free.

He sees himself as a very respectable man, thank you very much. And as a very respectable man, taking care of hostages should be the last thing he'll do. He scowled as he adjusted the rearview mirror so that he could see the unconscious boy in the backseat, his body below the neck covered beneath blankets to hide his handcuffed hands.

Who was he again? _Kaito-kun?_ He usually came with the Inspector's daughter, and maybe it was a blessing in disguise that he was caught and stumbled upon him. He's important to the Inspector too. Maybe, just maybe not as much as the daughter, but enough to convince him to step up his game. After all, Nakamori did speak fondly of him.

"_That's Kaito-kun, an aspiring magician." "He's a nice boy, that kid_."

The higher-ups are getting edgy, hands itching to take a shot at Inoue ever since they found out about his mistake with the hostages. He should consider himself lucky that the girl he took in place of the Inspector's daughter just so happened to be the daughter of a prominent figure in the police.

Mouri Ran's disappearance made itself known, and Nakamori Aoko's appearance in the office came later. They decided to keep her alive. Nakamori was working hard to keep her alive anyway.

Also, it wouldn't hurt to get Mouri Kogoro involved. If he can crack most of Kid's codes, then with a strong drive, he could surely track the thief down.

He glanced back at the boy, body moving with the bounce of the car.

How old was he? Seventeen? That's how young he was when both his parents took their own lives due to the business coming down, all thanks to that cheeky, white-clad asshole. That's how young he was when his relatives – being bastards that detested his parents – turned against him, kicking him out of school due to the lack of expenses. Half a year later, he stumbled across their boss, who decided that a manic young boy that had nothing to lose, seeking revenge on the Kaitou Kid was someone they needed. They trained him for five years; recruited and then gave him his very own codename later.

_Guiness_. That's what they called him. And since then, never was he addressed by his real name.

He supposed that it was right for him to feel mad that despite the reputation, his sole role was to take care of hostages. After all, his aim wasn't precise enough to make him a sniper or a gunman, and despite his smarts, his brain certainly wasn't big enough to put him in the drug production section. But the infiltrators managed to find him a place in the Task Force, anyway.

And in the end, as long as he contributed to the Kid's demise, he really didn't mind where he ended up in.

Inoue made a turn at a sharp curve, the road beyond it bumpy and unfinished. There was an abandoned warehouse ahead, and the hostage was inside. Gentle and sweet as she may look, she had a knack for slamming her iron fists into burly men's guts and faces. They had to tranquilize her twice, starve her, and then handcuff her to a pole, just to calm her down.

The boy looked like he'll be easier to handle. He's weak, and although the chloroform didn't immediately put him to sleep for some odd reason, it wasn't so difficult to pin him down. He seemed meek, and he was definitely not feisty. He wouldn't give them a hard time.

Pity he's the first one they'll have to kill if the Inspector and Detective don't manage to deliver the Kid by Sunday – being the less important hostage of the two and all.

The view was shifting now – from buildings and old houses to long, twisting trees. He parked his car behind the warehouse, which was a small, greying trailer with metal sheets for walls, and stepped out through the door. Two rookies came running to him, and he instructed them to bring the boy in. They easily lifted his body – blanket falling to the car's floor with a loud _waff_. Then he followed the rookies in.

The trailer was dark inside, with thin streaks of light illuminating from small cracks and holes. It only served to show the shadows of obstacles, which were barrels and small iron shelves. Far into the corner, however, there was a bright orange illumination. A window cast long, prison bar-like shadows on a large circle of light – in the middle of it being the girl.

The sharp contrast of light served to emphasize her features – the sharp nose, the bruises, the brown, messy locks and the eye bags. It showed the clear scowl in her face when she saw Inoue; the tight twist in the lips and the abrupt gasp; the sheer shock and the pure horror when her eyes travelled to the boy they carried.

They dropped him carelessly on the ground before her, body rolling for awhile, dark head lolling.

And then the girl was hysterical, handcuffs clanking violently as she desperately lunged herself forward in a feeble attempt to reach him.

_"Shinichi_!" she screamed in horror.

Inoue looked down, arms crossed as the rookies cuffed the boy's limp hands to the pole just beside the girl's. She was still screaming, and the boy still wasn't responding.

"Guiness-san...what now?"

"He inhaled a lot of chloroform," he stated. "Doesn't look like he'll wake up in a long while."

"So how do we make him speak to the Inspector? The boss wouldn't want to delay this."

He thought for awhile, staring down the small frame of the teenager beneath him, before a malevolent grin painted itself across his face. "Get me the kid's phone. It's at the dashboard of the car," he instructed one of the rookies. "A sad picture of him out cold like this will do."

A cloud must've passed over the sun because for just a moment, the light dissipated, darkening the room and shadowing the two hostages from view. That was a good thing.

Because Kaito was smiling like a cat.

* * *

Author's Note:

Okay, wow this is really short. But it is barely a real chapter, just so you know. I decided to make this to sort of introduce Inoue. Such a kind-hearted dear, isn't he?

Oh, and yeah. Here's a heads up on Ran's situation!


	10. Something in Your Pocket

Something in Your Pocket

"Aoko-neechan, there's something in your pocket!"

Aoko was making some rice in the kitchen when Conan bolted up from the counter right next to her to state his observation. She turned away from the rice cooker to face him and felt around her hips. No bulks whatsoever made itself apparent, so she lifted her head to stare curiously at the child. He stared back with an easy grin, small finger wiggling at the right pocket of her shorts.

She slipped two fingers in– pulled them out with a black chip in between them. With crooked brows, she raised it up, fluorescent light giving her easy access to its sublime details. She saw that it had small lens at the upper right side corner, no bigger than three centimeters in diameter. It was blinking red – something that only served to puzzle Aoko even more. The surface of the chip was a smooth plastic. And although the sides were thin, if you squint enough, you could see that there was a small switch there, color camouflaging with the entirety of the black device.

"How did this get in here?" she wondered.

The boy's lips twisted upwards, and then he cocked his head to the side. "Somebody must've put it there," he mused, shrugging.

She didn't think much of his reply. She twirled the chip around her fingers, an involuntary hum leaving her lips. "Is this a memory card?"

No. It can't be. That isn't right. The switches in memory cards are more prominent, and they don't have small lenses blinking red light back at you. Conan stared at the chip in her fingers a little longer. Then the gaze travelled back to her face. He smiled, almost knowingly.

"Leave it there," he whispered. "It must be Ran-neechan's."

"You're right."

The clothes she wore weren't hers. They were merely borrowed from Ran's closet, so things in the clothes – she decided to leave them alone. After all, who knew how important just one little chip could be? She put it back in, carefully, Conan eyeing at he side.

If there's one thing that her stay with Detective Mouri has done, it's made her realize that the little boy was clever. Although the things he points out are the mere wonders of a seven year-old, it doesn't change the fact that they help out a lot in cases. His canny observations, if only he realized how keen they were, could rival that of Kudou Shinichi's and Hakuba-kun's. Maybe even the Kid's. Hence, she knew better than to take that penetrating gaze lightly.

"What is it, Conan-kun?" she asked. He, in turn, blinked, before leaning away just a little bit.

"Ah? It's nothing, Aoko-neechan!"

Maybe she was just overthinking things. Detective Mouri didn't seem to take the child's words seriously. Lawyer Kisaki treated him like a kid. Only Kaito seemed interested in whatever the child had to say, and even then, that was Kaito.

The door squeaked open, and the two swiveled their heads to its direction. Detective Mouri stood by the doorframe, idling, before staggering towards them. Aoko heaved a gasp.

Gods, he looked _so bad. _

His shoulders had wilted down to a slouch, more curved than yesterday's hunch. His skin had gone pale, untidy rubbles constellating his face. Dark bags have accumulated beneath his eyes, the smell of smoke so, _so _strong in him. He dropped down on the floor in front of the low-rise dining table, and stared dully ahead.

Where was Lawyer Kisaki?

"U-uncle…?" Conan whispered in a hushed, shaky voice.

The rice cooker clicked, and Aoko scurried to get the bowls. Before she could open the cupboards, however, the Detective stopped him."Nakamori-san," he suddenly said. The voice was soft, gentle, but it froze her up nonetheless. "There should be scarves, a hat and sunglasses in Ran's room. Wear them to hide your face. Your father wants to see you."

"Can I come?" Conan peeped, and the Detective briskly turned to him.

"_No!" _he said, tone sharp, almost _worried._ "Stay here with Eri!"

"What's going on, Detective?" It was Aoko's turn to talk, and for some odd reason, Mouri's shoulders stiffened. She watched his form whiz through the office. She watched him pick up the landline on his table and dial a number. The tone of the buttons was familiar. He was renting a car.

"The Inspector will tell you," came the reply, gentle and wavering and soft as snowflake. Conan was silent beside her, spectacles gleaming bright to hide his expression.

And for some odd reason, she suddenly found the fluorescent loud – ringing across her ears like some hovering bee. She looked down at the table, fingers sprawled across it like dead things. Her shoulders almost jumped when Mouri's voice pierced through.

"Get ready. We're leaving in ten minutes."

It was the longest ten minutes of her life. Aoko sat on the passenger's seat when they got the car. There, she got a good glimpse at the man's posture – the stiff shoulders, the distant stare, and somewhere underneath, something strange.

She was no detective nor was she a genius, but she was smart enough to deduce that they did not do anything absolutely dire to his daughter. She's sure that they haven't gotten any major leads either. Otherwise, why would he take her along? If it were up to her father, he'd keep her in the dark – just like how he always does. But he was calling her in himself, and she doubted that he had any good news if Detective Mouri's sour look was anything to go by.

The car swiftly zoomed through the road. She didn't know the man well, but she doubted that he usually drove that fast. It made her realize that as it was, time was a luxury that they could not afford.

Eventually, they stopped at a café at a far and desolated part of the city. It was small, with bricks for walls, barely any windows to show her what was inside. She paused, momentarily, suddenly wondering if she could trust the Detective. After all, before he was a great asset to the police, he was a father – and a father would do anything to get his little girl back. He could probably even trade another child with the culprits, she decided, but one look at his face stopped those thoughts – the half of her mind that yearned for her dad winning. After all, in some ways, Detective Mouri was not too far from the Inspector.

She followed him in, eyes immediately darting all over the café in search for her father. She found him at the far corner, just beside the square window, and what she saw shocked her.

He has aged tremendously since the last time he saw her, not in the sense of loose skin and grey hair; more in the sense of losing his usual vigor – eyes wide and in a dull-like state. He looked absolutely worse than the Detective at that moment, shoulders drooping like they carried heavy weight. He did, in fact, look like someone who just lost something of great importance, and Aoko decided that that was _not _good.

"Inspector," Mouri greeted, and her dad jumped in his seat. He looked at the Detective, and then at Aoko. She did not miss the flicker of devastation come and go.

"Dad, what's going on?"

He motioned for her to sit, and she quickly obliged. Refusing the offer would only take more time, and time, it seemed, was something her father was desperate to get his hands on. She didn't want to give him that opportunity. She wanted to know what was happening _now_.

The Inspector waited for the Detective to take a seat beside his daughter. Then he spoke – in the tone, Aoko realized, that he used long ago to explain her mother's situation. "Aoko, do you remember your aunt in Thailand?" _She did_. Aunty Kimiko was her mother's younger sister, and they used to see each other frequently before her mother…

"Yeah, I do."

Nakamori inhaled, and then, "I packed up for you, and I booked you a flight for tomorrow. I want you to stay there with her until I say that you can return."

She drew back a little, shocked. He wouldn't send her away just like that. Not unless something was going on – something _dangerous_. "Dad, what's going on?"

Maybe it was because her senses were being stretched to the extreme that she easily noticed the very subtle show of tension – his jaw tightening. "They took Kaito-kun," he whispered, voice soft. "They're getting more hostages to ensure that we work to find the Kid. Aoko, it's no longer safe."

She only got the first sentence. Her brain immediately froze afterwards, unable to perceive and understand what else her father had to say.

"No…" she whispered, but she knew that they weren't lying because her father would _never _do that to her. She knew that it was true – knew _exactly _that it was true – just as well as she knew the table of two, and that the moon orbited the Earth. She knew, but she couldn't exactly accept it because that was Kaito, _goddamn it! _He was her carefree, bright-eyed Kaito, and he was probably chained up, unable to move at that very moment in their grubby little lair!

And Kaito didn't belong there.

Mouri and Nakamori were silent, not refuting her denial. They waited for her to piece the information together, and to her, doing just that felt like hours.

"Kaitou Kid will help us," she eventually said, meaning to make her voice sound strong; it came out as a shaky, involuntary gasp.

Never in her life did she ever think that she would have to depend on the man who took her father away for anything. However, no matter how much her pride denied it, at that moment, she needed it. Having someone like that on a case that danced around her best friend's life gave her a strange sense of comfort that she couldn't seem to stomp down.

Because even if he was a cocky, arrogant bastard, he was still the Kid. And he never fails.

"No," Mouri replied, all stone and ice. "He didn't appear like he said he would earlier, according to the Inspector. And he hasn't made a call since."

"I think that it would be best if we didn't depend on him in this case," Nakamori said in an odd tone.

Aoko took a breath, sharply, and fell against her chair. Her nose was tingling, and even amidst her bleary sight, she saw her father's eyes widen. Quickly, almost hastily, he stood up from his seat. He rounded the table and appeared beside her, hand awkwardly hovering over her back. And she, in absolute horror, grabbed his arm and pressed her face against his chest. The material of his coat was thick, so she's sure that her tears couldn't go through. However, she was sure that he knew that she was crying. Her shoulders shook violently, sobs hysterical but repressed, yet echoing across the café nonetheless. That's how she realized how silent it had been; they were probably the only customers there.

And the staff, not wanting to disturb anything, didn't even take their orders.

Amidst the breakdown, she briefly thought about what Kaito would say if he were there with her: _"Idiot. It's not over still. You've got three more days, so don't cry!"_

* * *

Aoko spent most of the fourth day in the car, staring blankly at the windows while the Inspector drove her to the airport. Horrifying scenes replayed themselves in the theatre of her mind – scenes of Kaito tied up, of him injured, bleeding, killed. And for the millionth time, she shook her head, trying very hard to shoo those vivid images away. _No, _she wasn't going to think that.

"Aoko," her father suddenly whispered. She glanced at him, and he was staring ahead. If she judged him by his expression, she would think that he was absolutely calm about the whole thing. However, his hands clasped tight around the steering wheel, and she knew that Kaito has been around with them far too long for him to not have a place in the man's heart. "I'll do my best."

That's the softest he's spoken since she was just a little girl, and the fact that it reverberated loudly across the car made her realize just how silent the whole ride had been. She followed his stance and looked ahead. The sky had an orange hue to it. It was beautiful, but she couldn't hate the sunset any less now. It meant that another day was about to pass, and they were edging towards the deadline. They didn't have the Kid, and their leads were right next to nothing. To top it all of, their brightest beacon of hope – stupid, selfish Kid – chickened out like the coward Aoko suspected him to be.

But 'how' was the question Aoko wanted to know the answer to.

"Dad?" She didn't bother to look at the Inspector. She kept her gaze fixated on the windshield – the world beyond it passing, not waiting. "What happened, exactly, for you to realize that Kid _ditched_ us?" _Ditched Kaito. Left them alone to retrieve her best friend, even if that was right next to impossible to do so without his help. This…this was all Kid's fault._

She wasn't looking at the Inspector, but she could imagine him flinching and looking down at her. There was a certain tinge of venom when she asked the question, and it just happened involuntarily.

"He was supposed to come to the office dressed as you. He was going to remove the disguise, pretending to be busted by me, and then leave. Everyone will take it as nothing more than preparations for a heist, and infiltrators would think that the you that came last time was actually the Kid. They wouldn't question the hostage that they had with them."

"But it's late now, and he didn't come."

She heard her father sigh, and that was that. The rest of the night passed like a blur. Aoko all along had been trying to suppress her thoughts, the scenes, and the terror. She could tell that he father – stiff in the shoulder and white with fear – wasn't entirely composed and steady either. It made her wonder how the culprits proved they had Kaito in their possession.

With Mouri Ran, it was the voice. Was it the same with Kaito? If so, what did he say? And did his voice shake? Did it tremble?

No, that wasn't like him. If anything, he'll keep quiet – let the criminals find their own way to prove that they had him. He was stubborn, like the jokester that he was, and he'll play a trick whenever an opportunity presented itself. She cursed that side of him – now more than ever – because in that case, it's what could get him hurt.

Or _killed_.

It was only when her nose became stuffy that she realized that she had subconsciously turned on the waterworks again.

They got to the airport late that evening, and she barely got to sleep a wink. It's not that the benches were hard; she was comfortable. Her father had packed some blankets for her, and the staff even offered them some pillows. It's the silence around them that was too overwhelming. It gave her imagination the freedom to play up her fears, the scenarios, and she couldn't seem to stop it. Time that she could've spent sleeping, she spent sniveling and awake. And beside her, not once did even her father snore.

At approximately six thirty the next day, she needed to board the plane. Her eyes were dry, streaks adorning both sides of her cheek, and she'd rather not be seen by anyone like that. It didn't stop her, however, from turning around – just as she was about to board – to stare at her father with a serious look on her face. "You've got to save him," she breathed. _"Please."_

She guessed that he must've gone out for a smoke in the time that she managed to reach the tip of her sub consciousness at around midnight, because he smelled of tobacco. He also looked absolutely tired, yet he still smiled – a pained, distant smile – mustache quirking upward. "I'll do my best."

She entered the plane, heart heavy, because she absolutely, _absolutely _did _not_ want to go. She really _didn't_. She wanted to help out with the case as much as she could – to be there when the seventh day came, when Kaito is either retrieved or not – because a letter about the results from her father was going to be a lot harder to take in. She'd want to be there when everything happens, to be there to see Kaito. To see that he is bruised, a little pale, but alright and smiling up at her to say, "Sorry to have worried you, Ahoko!"

Her father wouldn't allow it though, no matter how much she argued. Besides, say she does manage to convince him. He wouldn't allow her anywhere close to the danger zone, meaning she wouldn't even get to see Kaito until everything was settled. Still, she supposed that it was only sane of him to do that. After all, if she stayed, what _could _she do? Bang a mop into the culprit's head? Present them with a bucket of fish and hope that they had ichthyophobia? Be the bait?

She staggered into the plane, the cold air inside causing her to pull the scarf up to her nose. Her movements were instinctive, mind too occupied and dazed to take note of her surroundings – such as the person who was looking sharply up at her from the seat right behind hers.

She collapsed into her place, and a few seconds later – ten minutes before takeoff – her seat was violently kicked from behind. She closed her eyes.

Then _kick._

_Ignore it, Aoko._

_Kick. Kick kick kick. Kickkickkickkickkickkickkickkickkickkick_

Years of dealing with Kaito suddenly kicked in, and she whirled around with a heated glare. She opened her mouth, intent of giving him a piece of something that would make even her brash-mouthed father flinch when she froze, blue eyes wide within her pale face.

* * *

Author's Note:

Hi, everyone! So we reached chapter ten. Ooh, two numbers! Anyway, THANK YOU SO MUCH for the support! Chapter 11 might take a while (SORRY!) because I decided to interchange some chapters, and the second part of it is still being...well...made. Anyway, I hope to see you again! Thank you! Here's a digital Kid stuffed toy for all of you:

/(_)\ _\- Kaitou Kid (those lines beside him's his cape flying)_


	11. Blinking Dot

Blinking Dot

Conan's legs dangled and swung from the airplane seat, and Aoko _stared. _

She stared because that's all she could ever think of doing; she wasn't prepared for that. She wasn't entirely sure if she could live through the thought of taking the little boy with her to Thailand, and explain the situation back to his guardians in Japan. Eventually, however, she found her voice – a strained, strangled cry brought about by _remarkably strong emotions_. "Conan-kun?!"

"Good morning, Aoko-neechan!"

The seven year old flashed her a toothy, childlike grin, and for a moment, silence swirled around them – the noises of the passengers from the background diminishing into buzzing, incomprehensible hums.

"I followed you," he continued in a 'by the way' tone, and it at least managed to snap Aoko out of her reverie.

"Huh?" she replied, smartly, and he cocked his head to the side.

"I needed to talk to you about something."

Her left shoulder pressed against the back of the seat in front of her, and there was a slight pause during which she tried to process the fact that a _child _had _snuck _into a plane to speak with her. "Does Lawyer Kisaki know about this?"

"No."

Her left shoulder pressed further down the seat as she attempted to collect herself. She should tell the authorities about this. She really should. Before she could do just that, he thrust his hand towards her. "Aoko-neechan, can I have the chip in your pocket? Then I'll be on my way."

"W-what?" she spluttered. "Wait, no! No, Conan-kun! You're not even supposed to be here!"

"But –"

"God, this is crazy. I don't think that even Kaito would do this."

"I can't be sure about that."

She closed her eyes, sucking in a sharp breath. _Yes. He would've. _The things he did for his magic was sometimes over the top, but in a way, it's what made him who he was.

The little boy was eyeing her by then, gaze gleaming with a certain clarity that told her that her knew about the gravity of their situation. It made her pause for a while and wonder just how clever his mental capacity was.

Passengers continued to file in. They came in small bunches, slowly filling up the empty seats. It would only take awhile, she realized, for all places to be occupied. When that happened, the staff's going to realize that the little boy had nowhere to sit in. He had no ticket, and he was going to get caught. Conan was a child, but if he were as clever as she'd suspected him to be, he'd know that.

Indeed, he must've been thinking that same thing. "Can I have it now, please? It's very important."

"I'd like to know why," she replied, with an air of uncertainty. Despite her misgivings, however, she reached a hand into her pocket, finger fiddling with the plastic device. "What is it?"

Conan began to twiddle with his watch, eyebrows creased in a way that told her that he was thinking hard about something. "It's…a game. Just a game."

Kaito was very good at lying, so she was good at detecting them. And she didn't like what she was seeing. Before she could point this out, however, a hand gently landed on her shoulder.

"Miss?" a stewardess started. "Is that little boy with you?"

That's when she realized that an old man was standing on the aisle right beside Conan's seat, a ticket with his own seat number clamped on a wrinkly, pale hand. The seat number, she realized, was 33B– the seat right behind hers, where the little boy was currently residing. She also realized that the staff wouldn't let him leave the plane without a guardian, because he was a child. If he had been planning to slip away earlier, it was no longer going to work. He had drawn attention to himself.

And while she prolonged the silence, the question dangling over her face like a hooked fish, a suspicious look on the stewardess' face was beginning to form.

"Miss?"

Conan tugged at the end of her scarf, giving her a look that asked her to lie for him – to help him get out, and to give him the chip.

She'd give him the chip if he wanted it that badly, but she understood that the right thing to do was to inform them about his situation. It was best, not to mention safest. After all, Conan was a kid, not a day past nine. His request was clumsy. It was unthinkable.

The tugging stopped, the small hands on her scarf freezing as Conan looked down to suck in a breath. The stewardess was too busy looking at her, waiting for a reply to notice this. The old man merely raised his brows. "Aoko-neechan," he said sharply, and she was sure only she could hear it. "I need it to find Kaito-niichan."

Her heart froze.

She grabbed Conan's hands with her right, and straightened up.

"We have to go." If she hadn't been swayed by those words from her right mind, she would've thought things through. She would've taken into consideration the source of her information. Conan wasn't very reliable. Children generally weren't with serious matters of life and death. However, with her worry for Kaito toppling and shoving down what sanity was left in her mind, she could only take the bait. She reached her left arm up to adjust Ran's cap on her head. Then she ran her fingers through what locks weren't covered up, tucking them in the scarf. "Something urgent came up."

She offered them no explanations as she left, Conan tottering right behind, and they demanded none. There was a confused exchange of looks, however, which she did not mind.

* * *

The sound of a plane blared loudly in the background, but Aoko could hardly care less. She continued to follow the little boy down the airport hallways – her being all covered in scarves and hats. It should surely look suspicious to anyone paying attention, but the bright halls were busy – passengers scampering about to catch flights, staff attending to lost foreigners, and employees working on their given tasks.

She briskly marveled at how much it contrasted from how she saw it earlier that day, when she was walking through the place, her mind blank, ground unstable and constantly sinking. It had been so gloomy, dark and lonely without the pranks and the tricks, and she wasn't quite sure how she could regain her vigor.

But now she was scurrying down the stairs, up the escalators, leather boots clanking ferociously as she followed the little boy in a way that a child would follow a butterfly.

No one had the time to pay any attention to the suspicious-looking woman and allegedly naïve child. No one had the patience to observe them, and realize that their supposed aimless trails were actually geared to one specific direction – a waiting room that had right next to no other occupants.

The only other people when Aoko and Conan came in were an aged couple huddled beneath a blanket. They didn't notice the two minors cross the room to sit at a couple of benches located at the corner, just beside the window.

"So how can this help me find Kaito?" was the first thing Aoko asked. Her tone denied any leeway to lie, causing Conan to suck in a breath. There was a pause, in which she stared at his darting eyes, _daring _him to slip away.

And Conan – Shinichi – who couldn't exactly defy Ran when she eyed him like that, was sweating profusely as her look-alike did just that. He vaguely wondered if she ever used that look on the Kid, and if he weren't skating through thin ice, he would've laughed at the thought.

"It's just some kind of…game?" he replied, lamely.

"_Really?"_

"Um…"

She took the chip out and held it up against the light. Then she frowned.

She twirled it around her finger, perceiving the shape, the details, the color…

And it's strange. She faintly recalled seeing something like it before. Was it with Kaito? His nifty little magic toys always did look weird. She used to ask about the purpose of each one, and as a kid, he'd tell her everything – down to the very last details of his tricks. At some point, however, he just stopped. He became more secretive with his tricks, and the magnificence of his daily magic was somehow…subdued.

That chip, though…she's sure that it was one of the toys he's told her about. They were maybe around ten when he had slipped it somewhere…and they found…!

Her eyes popped open. "It's a tracking device, isn't it!"

"Umm…"

"It's a tracking device! Kaito used to have a bunch of these before. I can't believe I only just realized it now!" she cried, finally handing it to the little boy.

Conan drew back, looking visibly uneasy. But with the direction things have been leading to, Aoko knew that he could handle a little bit of that. She also knew that Kaito still wasn't with them.

"Don't lie to me, okay? Because I'm coming with you," she said. "Did Kaito put that in my pocket?"

She was asking someone who probably didn't know any more than she did, but she couldn't help it. Conan did, after all, convince her to bail her flight and march around the airport. He was also looking down, glasses gleaming, small hands clenching ever so slightly. It suddenly occurred to her that nothing was stopping him from coming up with the usual fibs. He could actually lie and say 'How could I know? I'm just a kid,' like he usually does.

But he didn't.

"Yes," he breathed. "I saw him slip it in earlier. Kaito-niichan probably did it to protect you from being taken away by the bad guys!"

"I see…" She suppressed a smile because goddammit, it was barely the time for that! She couldn't help it, though. After all, Kaito…boisterous, cheeky Kaito had actually been _worried. _She was vaguely aware of her own heart pumping vigorously, delivering a lot of her blood to her face. She tried to calm down, to _focus_, but she hardly had any sleep, and her emotions were all at its peak.

"Are you sure you want to come, neechan?" Conan – clearly unaware of her inner teenage turmoil – suddenly said, voice slicing through the silence as he fiddled with the joint of his glasses.

She looked down, knowing that her very hot face was most probably red. "Of course!"

"Do you know any kind of self defense? Are you good with guns? Are you…?" He suddenly froze, staring right ahead, and she didn't mind it at first. She paused and decided that the kid was probably just another weirdo-like-Kaito-in-the-making, then replied. "I…can throw things really hard?"

She realized half a second later, however, that he hadn't heard her. He was drawing a sharp breath.

"I can't track him down."

Aoko's blood ran cold. "What?"

"It's not connecting. Ki-Ki-Kaito-niichan's own tracker can't be traced."

His glasses, she realized, had sprouted an antennae from the right joint. The mirrors were no longer transparent lenses, but rather two spectacles with a constellation of grid lines, codes and legends plastered across the face. She realized that it all formed a map. Instead of a bleeping red dot to signify Kaito's whereabouts, however, what lay plastered across the lenses were two heartbreaking words: _Cannot Reach._

"We…can't track him down?"

The small fingers hovered about the glasses – shaky and clammy and looking just about ready to throw them off. "No. Either the tracker is turned off, it's broken, or they're in a place that doesn't allow signals to pass through."

She didn't voice out the implications – that maybe it's off because he couldn't turn it on, that it's broken because he's been slammed around too much, that it can't reach signal because he's probably splayed across some unreachable place…like a rooftop…or a warehouse…

Or the bottom of some pool.

"Maybe we can narrow down the locations?" she said, voice trembling to her dismay. "He can't be that far! It's barely been two days since they took him."

It's been approximately thirty hours, half of that being the time that Aoko actually knew about what's happened to him. It's the longest fifteen hours of her life; it felt like a year of nightmares she couldn't seem to get out of. Losing Kaito was like a dream – so unrealistic, so uncalled for.

A very somber look passed over the boy's face, and the girl felt a terrifying chill run up her spine. "That should be enough time to transport two teenagers to another country."

"They wouldn't do that," she stated. "Too many checkpoints. Too expensive. And even if he is still just a kid, Kaito shouldn't make it easy for them to move around."

She wasn't very sure where the last statement came from. She was certain that she said it as some flimsy way to ease herself, but it ended up sounding so sure and trusting. It was as if her subconscious believed that maybe…just maybe Kaito was very capable of pulling through.

She didn't get to mull over the thoughts too much, because she noticed the smallest of smiles ghost over the child's features. "Yeah," he whispered. "He'll see to it that Ran-neechan will be fine, knowing him."

Suddenly, a thought that has never crossed Aoko's mind ever since she heard about her childhood friend's fiasco danced around her head.

"What happened to Ran-san?"

They've got another hostage now. What do they plan to do? She recalled her father saying something about that, but the news about Kaito then had still been so fresh.

Conan froze up, and then turned to stare at her, looking like he was about to sign her death warrant. It managed to make her shiver. "The Inspector didn't tell you everything, did he?"

"I don't know. I wasn't in the right state to pay attention back then."

He closed his eyes, inhaled – very deliberately – and then sighed. "Uncle and Inspector Nakamori received photos yesterday evening. It was proof that they had Kaito-niichan in their possession." She sucked in a breath, sharply, joints turning numb. "Along with it came the message saying that they 'd liket to have Uncle on the case. They also mentioned that if Kaitou Kid is not yet in their possession by the deadline, they start killing off hostages, starting with whom they assume is the least important among them."

"And that is Kaito," Aoko breathed, as sharp as a knife.

Conan looked down. "Yes."

It hadn't been difficult to decide who it was. Conan didn't have a top-notch poker face like Kaito did, and with the theory springing up like that, she was also able to identify the odd look on Detective Mouri during their drive to the café.

It was relief, because Ran's deadline was going to be extended, and guilt, because he shouldn't be feeling that way.

"He'll be okay, Aoko-neechan," Conan suddenly said, and Aoko needed to pause in order to understand that she –the daughter of a police Inspector – was being appeased by a seven year-old kid. I mean sure, this seven year-old kid went with the Great Detective a lot, but he was still so young! Put any other kid in his situation, and their state would be a disaster. But even then, she couldn't bring herself to tell him that she was fine. She couldn't say that he should worry about himself because hearing that they were basing Kaito's lifespan on his worth hit her like a spear.

She knew that they were going to stick with the deadline; it came with the knowledge of his abduction. But Kaito was not _worthless, _goddammit!

"Listen," she murmured, "I considered asking for help. From another detective."

"No!" Conan's reply was immediate, with fear ebbed into its edges. "We can't _risk _that!"

"And we can't let Kaito _die_!" She wasn't about to watch time of Kaito's life slip through her fingers. She _won't. _Conan, on the other hand, seemed to have other thoughts.

"It's going to take more than ropes and explosions and duct tapes to kill him – _ah._"

Aoko stared, not sure about how she should feel about that. She was tired, after all. Gods, she was so tired, and the little boy was pushing all the wrong buttons with that statement. "The heck do you think he is?" she hissed, venomously. "That's my best friend you're talking about!"

"I didn't mean it that way! I'm sorry!" he cried. Then with a softer voice, "w-who did you have in mind, Aoko-neechan?"

"Hakuba Saguru. My classmate."

Conan actually flinched. "Classmate, you say?"

She raised her brows. "Yes."

"With you and Kaito-niichan?"

"Yeah."

He shook his head vehemently, the tip of his lips churning upwards ever so slightly. "I see…"

Aoko stared down at her boots, a small smile adorning her own face. "I'm not sure if you know him, Conan-kun, but he's someone who's really into Kid's cases."

He was nodding, urging her to continue, and at the back of her mind, she realized that he was doing that to help get her mind off the case – even if it was just for a little while.

The build-up of hope and the fall that followed had been awfully devastating. She felt bad for sitting around, reminiscing about everyday classroom scenes with Hakuba, Akako, Keiko, and Kaito, but she egged on. She told him about how clueless he was during Valentine's Day, about the skiing competition, about his birthday magic trick, about the everyday school clamor and mop chases and pranks. She felt bad, realizing that there's a chance that school could take a complete turn for her by next week because Kaito may not be there – b_ecause Kaito may be dead._

She finished her story with a choke, and she realized that fear was rendering her unable to smile despite the humor of her next statement "…there was one time, I remember it well. Kaito colored his test papers green, and he in turn called Kaitou Kid a scampering goose. Kaito's a big fan of the thief, actually, which is why they never get along."

_And Kid's an ass for letting him down._

"Kid really is such a bastard…"

Conan's expression suddenly became somber, and she wasn't sure if it was because her own face held its own dull countenance as the thought crossed her mind. She didn't ask him. Seconds passed, Aoko fiddling with her scarf, and Conan sucking in a shallow breath. Then – "Do you hate him, Aoko-neechan?"

He fingers froze around the stitches. "Of course," she whispered, response fuelled by fifteen hours of terror. "Kid took my father away. Now he's on the verge of taking Kaito away too. I hate him _so much –_" in a way that she's never hated anyone before.

"I see," he said, softly.

She glanced at him, and saw that he was staring at the old couple, a strange look in his eyes. She knew that he was far too smart for a boy his age. But still, he really was just a kid. Somehow, though, at that very moment, he sure didn't feel like one. There was a look on his face – dull and reflective, far too mature and discerning to belong to a child's. She watched him clench his jaws. And then she watched the sudden jolt of his hands as they flew up to his glasses. She saw him hitch a breath, fingers frozen on the joint of his glasses.

And suddenly, she was aware of the red, blinking dot in the lenses. Her heart froze.

"Conan-kun, you've got a lead, haven't you?" she stated, quickly.

* * *

Author's note:

Hi, guys! I've been getting asked a lot if Hakuba, Akako, and Heiji were going to make their appearances here. I've also been asked if Ai and Jii would have roles. They won't, and I'm sorry for telling you guys about it just now! The thing is, for the longest time, even I wasn't sure if they should be. I had a role for them in the latter chapters, along with Sonoko, but it would've seemed forced. It also would've triggered some kind of comedy, which I did not mind, but the roles would've been cut short. And when things start happening, what do I do with them?

Anyway, this has got to be another one of my longer chapters, which is a surprise. How was it? I struggle a lot with Aoko's POV, to be honest. Oh, and THANK YOU for your support, guys!


	12. Handcuffs Clattering

Handcuffs Clattering

Her wrists were bleeding, and her dry lips _hurt. _

Her body was telling her to sit still, to calm down, to stop crying because she was injured, goddam it! She was injured and hungry and devastated, and maybe she's even gone mad. Maybe she was hallucinating. Because he was there, and arm's reach away.

Shinichi was _there_.

A glimmer of light shone from the window, emphasizing the familiar angles of his face. It showed her the straight line of his still lips, and the faint roundness of his cheeks. Everything beyond that was shadowed. Shinichi was just a dark figure sprawled across the floor, and that was _horrifying._ How could she tell if he was squirming? If he was shivering? If he was even still _breathing?_

A soft jostle from the distance caught her attention, and she shakily looked up. She saw one broad back retreating to the other side of the place, the very thin glimmer of light barely holding on to him. The guard's figure eventually mingled with the darkness, and soon, the only thing that let her know about his whereabouts were the noises he made. _Thump thump thump _went his boots. _Bang _went the door – a hollow, plastic thing at the far end of the warehouse. It's how she realised that he was gone. The two hostages were left alone, and that shouldn't be something to be wary of, right?

The guard, a forty-one year old man with a very stocky build was told by that horrifying, cold-hearted Guiness to keep a close eye on the hostages. The wise thing to do was to follow. After all, he has seen people getting killed, just by standing in his way. Still, how much of a difference could a measly twenty minutes do? He was technically still going to be watching over them, only he wouldn't be _seeing _them. He'll be outside, by the door. What could happen while he was away? The karate champion was restrained, and that boy was helpless. Also, the air was getting stuffy.

Besides, the next shift was coming soon. He was about to get off anyway.

Unbeknownst to him, he was going regret his decision a lot later on, because the moment he stepped out, a chip that had mysteriously found its way into the fold of his pants caught signal and blinked red.

Somewhere out there, a seven year-old kid with a just, genius detective's mind, and a seventeen year-old girl with very murderous intents hopped out of some airport benches, dashed outside, and quickly boarded a train to Osaka.

Inside the warehouse, meanwhile, Ran curled in on herself. With the guard's constant declarations of boredom gone, her snivels and heavy breaths became more apparent – echoing across the walls even if it was no louder than a moth's flutter. She hated it, because it reminded her of the silence. It was silence that Shinichi would fill in, but then he wasn't doing it. He was just lying there, _still_, and she couldn't do _anything _about it_._

_"Damn it," _she whispered in shaky breaths, clutching her fists as her dried-up eyes attempted to tear up. It only succeeded to make her nose tingle. Her hands flew over her quivering lips. _"Damn it, Shinichi –"_

"Mouri-san."

Ran took a sharp breath, head whirling to the figure beside her. Even in the darkness, it glinted – pewter blue eyes squinting with a bit of mischief. She blinked, clammy hands shaking as she watched him sit up with barely any effort – as if handcuffs weren't even holding him back in the first place.

"Shinichi," she breathed.

He smirked. "Not quite."

The softest of breaths sliced through the air as she drew back, confusion and questions running wildly across her mind. Then she saw a twinkle from the window catch his eye, telling her even in the dark that he was watching her. If her intuition was correct, then her guess was that his critical appraisals were as sharp as Shinichi's.

And she was right.

"First, we need to get you out of those handcuffs," he whispered, contrition coloring his voice, and for the first time since they landed him there, she became aware of the stinging pain around her writs. Struggling so much to reach him has wounded her already injured hands. She'd even suspect that she was bleeding, if the warm trail trickling down her fingertips were anything to go by.

And wait a minute, is this guy even still tied up? Who the heck is he?

"Don't worry. They 'll find us. You'll be okay."

Who _is _he? Bleeding hell…!

There was suddenly a shuffle, and the very next second, she felt a hand brush down her elbow. She froze, breath hitching, five days' worth of ill treatment stretching her guard to the extreme. At that moment, she recalled the fear of being threatened with a gun in an alley in Ekoda. She recalled the fear of being tossed around, touched, wondering if they were going to rape her. And the fear was there again, jammed into her system, so she flinched away.

"Don't touch me," she spat, the words that were meant to be harsh leaving her lips in a soft, wobbly whine. The hands froze, and then immediately pulled away.

She couldn't see him, but she knew that he was near, so close that she was sure that he could hear her breaths. Eventually, she heard him inhale, very deliberately, and then – "I may not be the detective that you thought I was, Mouri-san, but you can trust me."

"You look just like Shinichi!"

"Indeed," he whispered. "But you can't trust the faces that you see in me."

Ran was silent after that, her mind rolling with suspicion. How much genius, Shinichi look-alikes – who could wear a lot of faces and easily slip out of handcuffs – were there, really? She'd be lying if she said that her mind wasn't hazy after all that she's been through, but thankfully, it hasn't completely melted just yet. And she'd like to know – just how on _Earth _did _he_, of all people, end up there!

"Listen," he eventually started, in the soft tone she also used to soothe Conan when he got upset. "I'm not going to hurt you."

His hands suddenly swept to her waist, so light this time that it could be mistaken for a warm gust of wind. It travelled to the small of her back, landed on her arms, and fumbled for her wrists. She was trembling, but this time, he didn't pause. Slick fingers worked their way to the cuffs, and with a click, they were off.

His hands were gone as swiftly as the handcuffs clattered to the ground. "See?"

She could just _hear _the silly, wide-eyed beam from him as he said that.

A pause followed, and realizing that he was probably wondering how she was holding up, she looked in front of her – where she assumed he was sitting. "Thank you," she whispered, and then she asked – "Can we leave?"

"No." The voice came, as sharp as a knife, from her right. "Not yet. I don't know the way around. It's still too dangerous."

"Then…?"

"For now, we wait things out."

She sucked in a breath, sharply, not at all wanting that. However, before she could let out another word, the door creaked open. A guard walked in, turned around to close the door, took out his phone, and Ran froze. To her right, the guy only stared at the guard. His own shoulders were relaxed, fingers fumbling for something in his pocket. Vaguely, she wondered what he had in mind, and she thought about how much their captors have underestimated him.

And then – "Mouri-san could beat this guy up."

Ran swiftly turned to him, her throat repressing a very loud scream. She wanted to tell him that _no, she absolutely can't beat him up, was he stupid?! _Did he forget that these guards were armed? And that her wrists were broken? And that she's already done that? Does he not know that she _refuses _to be tranquilized, and shot in the leg, and arm, and cheek _again?_

She didn't say it, though, because she didn't trust her voice to be hushed and steady. To her surprise, he was silent beside her. Then the man started to tap his feet – footsteps loud and as clear as daylight.

"Unsteady," the guy eventually said in a low whisper – voice eerily similar to Shinichi's when he was about to go on about his deductions. Perking up, Ran turned to him. She could barely make out his features, but the dim highlights on his face suggested a _very_ devious smile. "About one gun in one side of the belt, a flashlight in the other, and a phone. A rookie, so that's all that he'll have on him. I doubt that the higher-ups will let him have more than what is needed. Lanky, not as well built as the ones earlier. We lowered their guards. You should be able to knock him out in one kick. Young…so he'll talk. He'll definitely talk. And we'll get out."

"H-how can you be sure of all that?"

"I have very good ears, Mouri-san."

And it was a miracle that the guard hasn't heard them yet. She supposed that it was a good thing that he was so engrossed by whatever he was doing with his phone, there – at the far side of the warehouse, _away from them_. However, she wouldn't be surprised if the guy even had his voice calculated to just the right volume – enough for her to hear, and enough for the guard not to. In fact, she wouldn't put it past him to have every little bit of their escape already meticulously planned. She still wanted to know how he got there, but before that, she needed to make sure…

Her eyes sharpened, and the question she's been meaning to ask came. "Say…who are you?"

There was an unaccounted pause, long enough to make her turn to him. She saw that he was watching her, scrutiny penetrating right into her thoughts even in the dark. And then she heard a very soft chuckle – that same chuckle Shinichi would use whenever he's figured a case out.

"As long as I get us out of here, Mouri-san, it shouldn't matter, right?"

* * *

Author's Note:

Hi, everyone! Long time no see? This chapter turned out shorter than expected, but what do you think? I'm SUPER glad that you guys have been supporting this story, and for the sake of...well, feels, I decided to just go ahead and slam in this character we all know so well. Did you get the hint? It's in this chapter!

ANYWAY, you guys are AMAZING and really NICE! THANK YOU SO MUCH, I LOVE YOU!


	13. The Cruel Guard

The Cruel Guard

For the first few minutes, the soft tap of shoes clanking against the cold surface resonated across the room. Then when the guard got bored of this, he decided to converse with the hostages. Swirling around in the tattered, battered swivel chair that Guiness oh-so-kindly provided them with, he reached into the pocket of his pants to get his flashlight. He felt, for a moment, that something was missing there, but then he quickly dismissed it as nothing and proceeded to point the light at the two's general direction.

The girl, he caught sight of first. She froze for a moment when the light hit her face, before shrinking back into the pole. However, there was fresh determination flashing in her eyes, and he didn't like it one bit. He knew about her karate capabilities. Heck, he's the one who needed to cart one of his superiors off to the nearest hospital, where he saw a purplish bruise shaped like a feminine sandal bottom forming painfully on the older guard's masculine chest. He also saw a fellow guard leave the warehouse with a broken nose after apparently trying to molest her.

He didn't want to end up like any of them, but he didn't want to step down, either. He was a captor, and she was a hostage. It was simple math when you came right down to it. So, with renewed confidence, he leaned in, allowing a wicked smile to worm its way into his face.

The girl leaned away, looking more unhappy than terrified. It made him wonder where the crying had gone. The guard that was there before his shift _did _claim that she was being hysterical when she saw the boy's face, right? The only evidences of that now were the swollen eyes, dry streaks of tears and reddish nose. Beyond that, she seemed fine and rather…murderous. And something else. Something he couldn't exactly place his finger on. What was it?

"Sunday ain't too far off, girlie," he drawled, dismissing the thoughts. "Luckily, _you _won't be the one they'll kill off by then."

Her eyes darted to the left, and then to the right. She looked tense, but not horrified. That bothered him. After all, he was a captor, and she was a hostage. Just because he wasn't as well-built as the others didn't mean that he was any less intimidating.

I mean, sure, they didn't provide him with the poison and 38 colt revolver, along with the tranquilizer, swiss knives and all other things the other guards could have. He may also not know entirely what was going on, other than the fact that Kaitou Kid was involved, and that he most definitely did not want to duel him. He knew for a fact that he wouldn't be there on the seventh day, where the world-renowned criminal might make his appearance, because that would be a day of absolute chaos.

He also knew that despite his shortcomings, none of it meant that he couldn't shoot a handcuffed hostage with a pistol – a pistol that was currently had snugly fit into his belt. He wouldn't allow her to regain her vigor, or to glance at him without fear.

So, coming closer to her face, he grinned maliciously. She drew back. "Mouri Ran," he murmured, flashing the light straight into her eyes. He saw the slightest hint of a flinch, and he grinned. The name had its effect, but if anything, she looked annoyed. He wondered if she actually knew the gravity of her situation.

And then he realized that no one really told her what everything was about. He doubted that she would live for very long, and he doubted that he was going to be assigned as a hostage's guard again. He supposed telling her what he did know about that specific operation wouldn't hurt, because he didn't know much anyway. Plus, she'll die soon.

"Do you _know _why you're being kept in here?" he taunted, copying Guiness' tone to capture a cruel demeanor, and he was sure that he was doing it well. The girl was shivering by then – fists clenching for some odd reason – and a wave of pride passed over him, knowing very well that _he _initiated that fear. He was making her tremble, and he was superior.

He then proceeded to tell her about what he knew. He told her that they were going to keep her alive until the next week, and the only chance of her surviving is if Kaitou Kid was caught and punctually delivered to them. He told her about how her companion didn't stand a chance because his deadline was in two days' time. He wouldn't make it because Kid was slippery, and Kid was very difficult to touch – much more to catch and to trap. The Inspector and her father couldn't possibly get him on time. Their next hope would be during the next heist, possibly next week, if the thief actually sent a notice.

The mention of the Kid seemed to perk her up, so he concluded that she was a fan. He also concluded, by the way that she was suddenly looking at him with renewed interest, that he has finally caught her attention.

He began to rack his mind for more things to talk about. Something scary. Something intimidating. The thought of the syndicate's capabilities did cross his mind, but he wasn't dumb. He wouldn't say it.

Besides, whatever was going on in the higher-ups – it wasn't something that he could comprehend, and he'd like to keep it that way. Those who delved too deep into the roots ended up disappearing, and those who quit ended up dying accidentally. He was miserable about being (forcefully) recruited at first. After all, when he was fresh out of college, he only came there to add something to his resume. He wanted to be a teacher, you see, and he honestly didn't know how he ended up becoming a part of a criminal syndicate, snickering down at soon-to-be-murdered hostages. He supposed that he learned to accept his situation a long time ago when he realized that he had nothing else to live for because his girlfriend dumped him, and his pet dog died. Also, the barrel of the bazooka Guiness had oh-so-casually placed just beside his head a month ago as he was _requesting_ him to stay _was_ pretty big and scary.

He opened his mouth to start the long narrative, when a voice from behind him said, "Now, Mouri-san!"

Suddenly, he felt something hard smash against his face. He fell back, squirmed, grunted, coughed, fell again and reached for his gun. It wasn't in his belt. _Holy crap, _he briskly thought. _No wonder he felt like something was missing earlier._

Then he felt something slam him again – harder and swifter than the previous hit. His mind never managed to recognize the pain, or where it was at, exactly, because he was promptly knocked out.

* * *

The first thing that crossed the guard's mind as he woke up was, _wow, it's bright_. Even with his eyes closed, a bright flash of light still managed to find its way into his vision, rendering sleep impossible. His next thought was: _Why are my hands twisted behind me in such an ungodly angle?_

Slowly, he opened his eyes. When the initial burst of light was gone, he managed to perceive blue. Blue eyes…framed by a young boy's face. And the young boy was smirking down at him, a pistol…_his _pistol…held lithely in the hand that wasn't holding _his_ flashlight up to his face.

"Hello, guard-san!" he greeted in a smooth, playful voice. The uneven lighting made it difficult to really see the kid's features, but the shadows suggested a tight up-twist of the lips – a mischievous smirk. Behind him, there was a silhouette. It was the silhouette of a girl. It was Mouri Ran, standing, arms across her chest and freed of the handcuffs. "I'd like you to answer a couple of questions."

It suddenly occurred to him that his flashlight might've hovered over the second hostage's spot while he was scanning for them earlier. It also occurred to him that he didn't see anyone there! He didn't investigate it any further because he assumed that the kid was still knocked out on the ground, and that small tinge of incompetency on his part was a big mistake. The kid crouching in front of him was the second hostage. He needed to unleash what little pride he had left.

Because he was a captor, and he was a hostage.

"Dream on, brat!" he slurred, before cackling. "You ain't gettin' anythin' outta me!"

He could see the boy's lips. The light illuminated it well. However, it had twisted down from the playful smirk into a straight line that couldn't be read. It scared him, all the more so when he felt something cold press against his forehead.

"You could dream in hell, if that's what you'd like," the kid whispered, and he could suddenly feel his panic building up as the pistol's barrel nudged harder against his forehead. It wasn't as painful at that time Guinness was pressing the bazooka against his skin, but still…that small thing could kill him. And did the boy even know that he wasn't supposed to press the trigger to keep him alive? _Good Lord, _did he even know how to operate a gun? How did he even end up in that situation? He just wanted to become a teacher!

Kaito, meanwhile, could sense the panic, and he was glad. Annoying as the man may be, him of all people knew the staggering price of lives. Holding the gun up to people's foreheads wasn't exactly something he enjoyed. He knew that the man giving in equated to letting go of the weapon a whole lot quicker.

"M-my colleagues will come here any time!"

"No, they won't," the guard heard him say. "You're shift's not over 'til ten. It's eight-twenty."

_Holy shit. _He was going to die. The boy was going to kill him, because he didn't know so much about what was happening either and hewasgoingto_die!_

"You called the Superintendent Guinness."

"Yes," he answered, automatically. And before he could stop himself, he added, "Some people here have codenames."

"That are based on liquor?"

"That are based on liquor."

"Like Sherry and Bourbon?"

"Like Sherry and Bourbon."

The flashlight wavered slightly, but the lips were still tight in a straight line. However, he did catch a glimpse of the kid's jaw tightening – just for a second – before a brief pause followed. He wondered if what he told him was useful, and if it was, he was very scared for his life. The higher-ups would kill him. However, how could codenames being based off liquors be of any importance? Was it even important? Syndicates had that all the time, right? Not just liquor – sometimes even in animals. Like Snake and Spider and –

"What's yours?" came the voice, cutting off his trail of thoughts.

"I don't have any," he replied, spluttering. "I'm just…I'm just a rookie!"

And another pause followed. He was suddenly very scared again, because he knew that in the next few seconds, he could be dead.

"Okay," the boy eventually said, and he felt the barrel leaving his skin. He barely had the chance to internally celebrate, when he heard the rustle of clothes as the kid reached into his pocket. Then, he brought out some spray. The nozzle was pointed at him. _At him. _There were very few _centimeters _between his face and the thing, and what was in it? Poison? Was he going to kill him? Was he going to _die? _Oh –

Oh no. The boy was smirking again, like some kind of sadistic creep, as he held a hand up to cover his own nose. "Good night!" he sang.

A hiss of smoke overtook his vision, and for some odd reason, he was feeling very, very sleepy. He fell forward a few seconds later, and dreamt about him ex-girlfriend.

* * *

Author's Note:

Okay, hi everyone! Wow, this story is catching up to my drafts. Bad news for updates. I have the plot up to the ending already weaved around my mind, though, so I won't abandon this. However…uh…you know how difficult it is to focus on two stories, right? Well, our finals is this: make a story concept, and write a script about it. 'Kidnapped' is constantly on my mind, but to keep this story concept for school from becoming about white-clad international thieves and detectives (and turning into some plagiarized work), I need to put a thick line between that and 'Kidnapped.'

Huhuuuu, this is so hard.

Anyway, that means that my updates will be a little less frequent. Honestly, it's been pretty infrequent now, huh. I'll do my best to update on time!

Oh, and, how was the strange shift of POVs? My original thought for this chapter was in Kaito's POV, actually. I don't know why I typed it in the guard's POV.


	14. Chance Meeting

Chance Meeting

Hattori Heiji knew that it was going to be a terrible day the moment he woke up suffocating, his airways blocked and, and the world dark even to his wide eyes. This only lasted for a second though, because the force was immediately pulled away. Light flooded his retinas, and he found himself staring and gasping into the smiling face of Kazuha.

It took him three seconds to process this, another to register the role of the pillow in her hands, and another to realize that he really should be mad.

"The _hell_, Kazuha?!" he yelped.

"Your mom let me in," she stated, matter-of-factly, as if that was the answer to all of his questions. "Ya wouldn't wake up, and we're gonna be late for school."

So he pushed the girl out of his room and proceeded to get ready. He slammed his head against the bathroom door, trying to get in, and stubbed his toe while putting on his pants. He dashed down the staircase – missing a step once, falling down half a flight – and found Kazuha reading a book in their living room.

"Finally done?"

"Hey, it wasn't me who asked ya to check on me!"

She looked up. Then her gaze zeroed in on the wall clock past Heiji's shoulder.

7:20, it read. A heartbeat passed. Then she was scrambling to her feet, eyes wide, and pushing Heiji out of the door with her.

"We are so _dead!_"

"Stop pushing!"

"Start running!"

In their haste, they tripped once, ploughed into street signs twice, a wall once, and took the wrong bus twice. 8:00, they were sweaty, panting, and standing before their school gates, late. Heiji reached for his backpack, and then froze.

"My…bag…" he whispered, realizing that there was no weight on his back. Kazuha stood there, staring at him with a blank look on her face.

* * *

The tracker lost track of Kid's phone again, but it had done that after giving a general idea of the hostages' whereabouts. When the signal was corrupted, Conan and Aoko already knew around where they should look.

And together, they stared up at the leafy forest that bordered the city of Osaka. Even at eight-twenty in the morning, the place was dark – sunrays shadowed by the leaves and branches, blotting the ground in round, greenish dots. Lanky trees and shrubby undergrowth littered the grass, and at the back of Conan's mind, he concluded that the bad signals could've been from that. This was reinforced by Aoko waving her phone around behind him, looking exceptionally distressed.

As they made their way deeper into the forest – the trees becoming wispier, roots more apparent – it quickly became obvious that the forest was not the natural habitat for the leather boots on Aoko's feet. The treacherous ground, riddled with tree knots and rocks, caught at its heels. The gravel and dirt stained at its leather. And Aoko Nakamori – not very different from her loud-mouthed father – yelped her indignations to the heavens above. Conan decided the first time she ran into a tree branch that if Gin just so happened to be passing by, it would mean instant death for them.

And when she tripped over thin air, in the midst of his rapid thoughts, he managed to ironically think: _The Kaitou Kid's girlfriend wasn't very much made to sneak around, was she?_

They eventually found themselves stepping out of the bundle of woodland, staring down at a dusty, gravel path with tire marks. _With tire marks. _

A grin instantly lighted up Conan's face. They were close. Close to the Kid, close to Ran. He was about to set out and follow the marks when Aoko carried him up and hid behind a tree. That's when the sound of an engine caught his ears, and it was heading down the path.

It passed by them – a common, silver Corolla. The windows were tinted, so even when he squinted his eyes, he could only see the form of the person driving. Aoko, on the other hand, seemed to have gotten something.

"That car looks familiar," she murmured as she stared at its retreating form. She put the boy down, crossed her arms, and thought.

Conan, after the initial shame of being carried so easily like a child, was about to ask her about that when something vibrated in the pocket of his shorts. Quickly, he fished for his phone and raised his brows at the unfamiliar number. The safety protocol was not to answer, but the things he always got himself into were anything but safe. Besides, with the dangers he oh-so-willingly dove into, answering suspicious calls were trivial. And so he answered, in the off chance of it being something important.

He ended up being glad that he did.

"Detective,"

Conan's mind froze, the only thing that kept him from shrieking, really, was Aoko's warm presence nearby. He glanced up at her, seeing if she's noticed the call, but she was still staring after the car long gone. He decided to ask her about it later, but for now, she shouldn't see him. So he tiptoed away, into the crook of some tree roots where he could still keep an eye on her, and she couldn't..

"_Kid! What the –"_

"I'm going to assume that you found the tracker."

Conan took a deep breath, and gathered his wits. Kid was being urgent– a rare but serious thing – and he wasn't about to become a blabbering idiot. So, "Yes," he breathed – rubbing a fist through his temple – "Yes," he said, firmer this time, eyes sharpening like they do when a case gets tough and grim. "We're using it to track you down," he said into the phone's mic, but his voice was choppy against it.

_Crap! The signal is dying!_

There was a brief pause during which Conan understood that the thief was putting together the jerky sentence. Then, "Clever," he replied. That word was clear. The next sentence, however, was less comprehensible. "e – care – atch – for – ness – it's – them –" then the call died.

He was frustrated that their call had been cut short, but it was a few seconds into the silence when he managed to acknowledge the giddy relief nibbling at his chest, because if not for the urgency underlining his tone, the Kid was fine. And so was Ran, most definitely. After all, the only reason Kid could have so much firmness in his tone is if he didn't have to be soft with him – soft because Shinichi's lost something, soft because he needed sympathy. But maybe he was overthinking things. There were so many factors to consider, and he couldn't base Ran's condition all on a choppy call.

Half a second later, he shook his head because he was missing the point. Kid called because he needed to tell him something, not because he wanted Shinichi to go on an aimless deduction spree. He thought back to the choppy sentence, weaved the more comprehensible words together, and was promptly sent into a vague, hazy sort of panic.

The words – _Be careful. It's them_ – resurfaced. What he said in between, he couldn't get. The sentence was incomplete, but he got what he needed to know exactly what he needed to do – what Kid wanted him to do.

Get Aoko _out_ of there. Don't do anything reckless. Get help. They've got a lead.

But before he could actually plan the whole thing out, Aoko was gasping. Conan spun around, briskly, and found her standing face to face with a man. He had a surprised look on his own rounded face, back bent from avoiding a tree branch, and not at all looking like he was expecting to see anyone in the area. For a while, nobody moved, the two of them eyeing each other. Suddenly Conan let out a loud, horrified scream from behind the tree. "_WAAAH!"_

Aoko stared, confused. The man turned to him, and Conan saw the bulge of a well-concealed weapon as he did so. He quickly toddled his way to Aoko's side to wrap himself around her in a way that a scared child would. Aoko clearly still didn't get what was happening, so he went on.

"I told you that there are ghosts in this area, nee-chan!"

"Oh!" Aoko gasped, eyes lighting up. Quickly, she turned to the man and smiled. "Funny story, actually! My little brother is convinced that there are ghosts in the area."

Conan made a show of hiding behind the girl. Then the man twisted, looking around the place – _looking for backup, most probably – _Conan thought, grimly, as he took into account the man's black attire. Suddenly, senses on high alert because of desires to escape, a flash of something from his pocket –a flash of red that was vaguely similar to the Kid's phone – caught his and Aoko's absolute attention. She took a sharp, shaky breath and squeezed Conan's fingers with a clammy hand.

They needed a way out, but they couldn't run away. It wasn't even an option. Maybe he could put him to sleep with – he cut his thoughts off when he reached for his wrist and remembered how he no longer had the dart in his watch. He had used it on a stewardess some hours ago, when she found him sneaking into the plane to get the tracking device.

"How far did you two go?" he suddenly asked. Then, in a vain attempt to not seem suspicious, he added, "this…place is pretty deep."

"Not further than here," Aoko replied. She was smiling again, the shaking hand on Conan's fingers being the only indication of horror. She was a pretty good liar, he had to admit. Kid's ways must've rubbed off on her. But seeing her childhood friend'S phone on this man's pocket must've startled her. She could only take so much, so he needed to talk.

"M-my friends and I always talk about this scary place. Onee-chan was just trying to convince me that the place is safe. We were just about to go back," he stated, staring up at the man. He knew for a fact that it was the perfect opportunity for him to commit a murder. There were no witnesses, and there were probably several back-ups crawling around the place. However, he also knew that there was an elementary school and a neighborhood nearby. He was sure because Hattori studied in the high school close to it. If he painted the illusion that they lived and studied nearby, and that he spoke about the 'haunted' forest a lot, maybe the man would actually think before shooting at them.

It was working. The man stood there, pondering. He knew that it would be horribly stupid to let them be. The hostages were nearby, there was no way he'd let these two anywhere near it. But then it's not like they could be considered witnesses yet, right? After all, they haven't really seen anything. Otherwise, they'd be informed. There were men watching the trailer, after all. And what were the chances of these two knowing about this case? Besides, killing them there would send out an investigation. Leads. A lot of people would get involved, and leads were things that Guiness did not like. For now, he needed to keep an eye on them before further instructions are to be given. So he took out his phone…

And suddenly, they heard a rustle from the side. Out from the shrubs came Heiji.

* * *

Author's Note:

Hi, everyone! So I haven't written in a while. Haha. Things might be a little rusty here, but I reread most of this story to keep it on track. I did fine with my project, if you'd like to know. But it was HARD! Fanfiction is suddenly so FUN! WOOHOO!

Ooh, and I'll be posting another story soon! One about Kaito accidentally inhaling a new test gas Kid is planing to use for a heist, and Aoko thinking that he's on drugs. It'll be a one-chapter thing. Just a random plot that came to mind earlier. See you guys soon!


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